13 Going On 30
by PrincessBellePrinceAdam
Summary: xOOx AU. A young Rose wants desperately to fit in with the popular Mira and her crowd. After a disastrous 13th birthday party, she finds herself to be 30 years old, wealthy, and successful...but without her best friend Mack.
1. School Bells

Disclaimers/Notes: I don't own Power Rangers Operation Overdrive, nor do I own _13 Going on 30_. For the sake of my sanity, this fic is going to follow the timeline of the movie: The first two chapters are going to take place in 1987 and the rest will take place in 2004. It's very much an AU, and I hope I can pull it off while remaining true to the characters of OO.

**13 Going On 30**

The small girl in the pink sweater was roughly shoved to the front of the line. "Go dork." Rose Ortiz kept her eyes on the ground as she sat down in front of the backdrop. She handed her card to the photographer.

"Look this way, Rosa," the middle aged man instructed as he adjusted the camera's lens.

"It's Rose," she corrected. She readjusted her books, hoping to hide the dorky sweater her mother had made her wear.

"Put your books down and look this way, Rosa," the photographer said.

"It's Rose," Rose said again. She grimaced. Was one vowel really that difficult to remember?

Two weeks later, when Rose picked up her school photos, she saw how horrible the photo had come out. Apparently, the silent 'e' was a difficult concept to figure out. If he had just bothered to listen, maybe the ugly look on her face wouldn't be there and she would finally have taken a cool picture for once. "Oh God," Rose muttered, horrified.

As she continued down the hallway, a bell rang and all around her, kids tumbled out of classrooms. "Enough already, Hartford," someone snapped. The boy in question, Mack Hartford, turned away and spotted his best friend Rose. Grinning, Mack snuck up behind her, slipping his arm over her shoulders and snapping a quick picture.

"Mack, please. No more pictures."

"But Rose, it's your thirteenth birthday. I have to document it for you."

Rose rolled her eyes and looked down the hallway. Mira Trix, better known as Mir-Mir, was strutting down the corridor, her gang of girls following close behind. Everyone moved out of Mir-Mir's way as she approached.

"Hi Mir-Mir," Rose said hopefully. Mack fiddled with his camera; the Six Chicks made him uncomfortable, and it hurt him to see Rose go out of her way to be accepted by such cruel girls.

"Hey Rose. Beaver." Mack looked away, hating Mir-Mir's nickname for his slightly chubby body. He wished Rose could see Mira for what she was, but Rose desperately wanted to fit in. "So how'd yours come out, Ortiz?" Mir-Mir asked, brandishing her own envelope full of photos.

"Terrible." Rose made sure her own ugly photos were out of sight.

"Mine aren't so great either." Mir-Mir pretended to look ashamed. There were murmurs of disagreement from the other five girls. "Oh whatever." Mir-Mir revealed her photos. Rose was envious of the haughty, proud look on Mira's face.

"You're so photogenic."

Mack adjusted his backpack straps. "I'll meet you outside, OK Rose?"

"Do whatever you want, Beaver; Rose doesn't need a play by play." The followers giggled, and so did Rose. Mack pushed his way through the Six Chicks angrily. Rose felt the tiniest prick of guilt as she watched Mack leave, but Mir-Mir was talking again. "Rose, can I talk to you a tiny sec?"

Rose nodded and followed Mira over by a row of lockers. "I told Will Aston me and the Six Chicks were coming to your party tonight, and he said he'd come with."

Rose felt her eyes widen. "Really?" she asked incredulously, feeling the tiniest spark of excitement. Will Aston was the cutest boy in seventh grade, and Rose had had a crush on him for years.

Mira nodded. "It's too bad we won't be able to make it. Miss Appleby's totally up our butts for the group project, and Will's coming over to help, so he can't come either."

Rose's heart sunk; her one chance to be popular had just gone down the drain. Unless… "I could write the report for you," she said quickly. She knew it was wrong, but it wouldn't take her long to do, and she wanted to be one of the popular girls.

"You're a doll," Mira declared, sauntering away from Rose with a smirk on her face. Rose was so desperate to be popular that she'd sell her own mother if Mir-Mir told her to…and Mir-Mir was fully aware of this. Rose watched them go with a smile on her face. The Six Chicks and Will Aston were coming to her party tonight!

Rose met Mack in front of school so they could walk home together. "You know, I don't understand why you want to be one of them. They're just a bunch of clones."

"Mir-Mir is my friend," Rose said, "And I'm going to be a Six Chick, Mack."

"She's not your friend, Rose," Mack said sadly. It killed him to hear Rose say that. "Anyway, you can't be a Six Chick. The whole point is that there's six of them and with you there would be seven. It's mathematically impossible. You should know." He nudged his brainy friend. "Besides, they're so unoriginal. You're way cooler than they are."

"I want to be popular, Mackie, not original."

Mack shrugged and reached into his back pocket. "Razzle?"

"They're for kids."

"Exactly." Mack shook some candy into Rose's palm and popped one into his mouth. "Arrivederci," he said as Rose began crossing her lawn towards her house.

"Au revoir." Mack watched her go, snapping one last picture of his retreating best friend.


	2. The Party

**13 Going on 30**

Later that afternoon, Rose sat at her vanity, struggling to apply her make-up. She glanced at the chart from _Poise_ for what seemed like the hundredth time. She was supposed to be a genius. Why couldn't she put make-up on? It wasn't exactly rocket science.

She frowned at her reflection. Mir-Mir would never have this problem. Rose grabbed a tissue and wiped her face clean for the third time. She took her chart down and read it over three times and then carefully began to put foundation on.

Just as Rose was finally finished (and to her satisfaction, at long last), her favorite song came on MTV. She ran over to the TV, looking at Rick Springfield longingly. She hummed along for a moment – until she heard the door open. Her parents came in then, a video camera in her father's hands.

"Tell us how it feels to finally be a teenager, Rose," Tim Ortiz implored his daughter. Isabel moved closer to her only child, a look of motherly concern on her face.

"Honey, are you wearing a bra?"

Rose shrieked. "Mom! Dad! Go away; I want to finish getting ready for my party." Isabel waved her husband away and turned to Rose, who had flung herself onto her bed.

"It's going to be alright," Isabel said gently. She knew how self conscious her daughter was about her still developing body.

"No it's not, Mom! Look at this-" Rose pointed to her chest – "It's fatal!"

"It's not fatal." Isabel gently held her daughter to her body for a moment before reaching down Rose's bright pink tube top and pulling away the wadded up tissue. "It's realistic."

"I hate it."

"But you're so beautiful, honey. You don't have to look like one of those models in _Poise._ Just give it time. You'll have plenty of boyfriends. Like Mack."

"Mack's not my boyfriend, Mom. And I want to look like a model. They're so beautiful. I want to look like them, pretty and happy with myself. These women can have any guy they want." Rose looked up at her mother. "I wish I was thirty, flirty, and thriving."

Isabel laughed softly. "You will be thirty. But for now, Rose, you are my gorgeous thirteen year old." She pulled Rose's shirt down as far as it would go. "Now go enjoy your party."

Mrs. Ortiz got up from Rose's bed and left the room, shutting the door behind her. As soon as her mother had gone, Rose reached for more tissues and stuffed her shirt with them.

--

As Mack walked down the steps to the Ortiz's basement rec room, he saw Rose dancing to Michael Jackson's "Thriller." He smiled, loving seeing her so happy for once. She was his best friend, but he knew Rose would drop him in a second if Mir-Mir and the Six Chicks ever let her into their clique. "Happy Birthday!"

Rose looked up at him, grinning widely. Then she saw the huge box in his hands. "Oh my God, Mack!"

"This is just part one. I have something else for you later." He tried to smile back. He was secretly hoping that Rose's party would be a disaster. If Mir-Mir decided to accept her, Mack knew Rose would go over to the Dark Side for good.

Rose ran over and turned off the TV before running back over to him. "Check it out." Mack put his hands on either side of the box and paused for a moment. "I remembered you always wanted a Barbie Dream House." Rose nodded and Mack continued. "I made you your own Rose Dream House."

She dropped to her knees as he lifted the box from the present. "Wow, Mack. You made all of this for me? That's so sweet."

Mack smiled, happy to see that she liked his present. He scooted closer to her to explain his craftsmanship. "Your bubble bath with your favorite magazine," he said.

Rose laughed. "That's so cute."

"Your room with all the best albums ever made," Mack continued. "That hobo Rick Springfield lounging on the couch-" he pointed – "And there I am. I have to make sure he behaves himself." Rose smiled again…was that adoration on her face? "Oh. I forgot. Wishing dust."

"Wishing dust?" Rose asked skeptically. Mack nodded and tore the top off of the packet.

"It knows what's in your heart of hearts. It'll make all your dreams come true." Mack took the package and sprinkled it onto the doll house's roof. Rose closed her eyes as the sparkling "dust" fell onto the gift Mack had so thoughtfully made.

The doorbell rang. "They're here!" Rose realized. "They're here." She picked up the doll house and brought it over to the closet. "I'm putting it away so we have room to dance," she explained to a hurt-looking Mack. The bell rang again.

As Rose reached the front door, she saw her father heading to open it. "You and Mom said you'd stay upstairs," Rose whined. "Just go, Dad." She shoved him away before turning to the door. Rose pulled it open. "Hi guys. The party is downstairs." Mir-Mir shrugged off her pink denim jacket and shoved it into Rose's arms. The other Six Chicks did the same.

Rose stood there for a moment, feeling like a coat rack. As she stood there, a black car pulled up in front of the house. A few boys Rose's age got out of the back and bean walking towards the Ortiz home. She sighed. Will and his friends really had come. She wasn't a loser. She was going to be popular at last.

The boys let themselves in. "Where is everyone?" Will asked. Rose could hardly breathe. He was talking to her!

"Um, downstairs," she managed at last. "The party is downstairs." Rose hung the coats in the hall closet and showed the boys to the party.

As they reached the basement rec room, an unfamiliar song was blaring from the stereo and Mack was dancing along. Badly. Rose panicked. She could not let Mack ruin this for her. She would turn off the music if he got too embarrassing.

Rose flounced over to Mir-Mir. She stood there next to her idol, silent. Finally Mir-Mir turned her faze on Rose. "What is this?" she demanded, pointing to Mack, who was still attempting to bust a move.

"It's Mack's," Rose answered, "I don't know what it is." Mir-Mir smirked. She pranced over to the stereo and pressed the eject button. Mack frowned.

"Sorry. No one else likes this, and the rule is majority wins."

"Narrow."

"Freak."

"Clone." Mack looked over at Rose. "I'm going to run back to my house and get my bass. I wrote you a song."

Rose noticed the Six Chicks looked near laughter, and she didn't want Will to think Mack was her boyfriend. "Do whatever you want. I don't need a play by play, Hartford," Rose said coldly. The other girls and Will's group of boys laughed. Mack's eyes clouded with hurt.

When he had gone, Mir-Mir looked over at Rose. "I think we should play a game." The other girls tried not to giggle, and the boys nudged each other. "Seven Minutes in Heaven."

"How did that one go again?" Rose asked nervously as Mir-Mir pulled the silk scarf from her neck.

"Well, two people go into the closet and they do whatever they want for seven minutes." Mira carefully folded her scarf. "You're going to go first. You're the birthday girl." She tied the scarf over Rose's brown eyes and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Will wants to go first."

Mira opened the closet door and led Rose inside. "Oh, before I forget, where's our project report?"

"On the table with the snacks."

"Great." Mir-Mir closed the door, leaving Rose inside. She motioned for everyone to be quiet and snuck over to the table. Mir-Mir grabbed the report and started upstairs. The others followed, and then Mack appeared.

"Where's Rose?"

"In the closet." Mir-Mir smiled evilly. "She's waiting for you, Mack." Mack looked confused and headed over to the closet.

"Rose?" He opened the door to see Rose sitting on the floor with her eyes covered. She smiled.

"I thought you weren't coming." She stretched her hands out. Mack laced his chubby fingers through hers, and leaned close to her as she was doing to him. Their lips inches apart, Rose sighed. "Oh, Will."

"It's not Will, it's Mack." Rose uncovered her eyes, shocked and…angry? "They all left." Rose shook her head, eyes glaring. "Just let me play the song I wrote for you. You'll love it."

But Rose had shoved him out and closed the door again. She sat on the floor, knocking against the shelves. The glitter from the doll house fell onto her head and shoulders. "I want to be thirty! I want to be thirty!"


	3. I'm Thirty?

**13 Going On 30**

The petite figure tangled in the pink silk sheets groaned softly as she turned in her sleep. She fell out of bed and hit the floor with a solid thunk. Rose Ortiz slowly straightened up and opened her eyes, promptly to discover that she couldn't see anything. _'Am I blind?'_

Panicked, Rose's fingers searched her face, coming in contact with a silky piece of fabric. She pulled it off to find that it was just a sleeping mask. She breathed a sigh of relief and then looked around the room. Nothing looked familiar.

She stood up frantically and found her way to the door. The hallway was unfamiliar as well, with unrecognizable gray wallpaper and a large oval mirror. She caught her reflection in this mirror and screamed shrilly, toppling over a low wall into a living room that was completely foreign to her.

"Oh, God," Rose muttered as she straightened up once more. She looked in the mirror and found that she was still at least thirty years old. Rose shook her head and decided to ignore that disturbing detail for now. She flopped into a pink chair and put her head between her knees, hoping a blood rush would help.

She sat up a moment later, looking around once more. The couch was red with small pink throw pillows on it, and the coffee table matched the mirror in the hall. A few bills were stacked on the table. Rose picked them up and sifted through them – they were all addressed to her. "I live here."

Rose tossed the bills back onto the table and started to head down the hallway to what she assumed was her bedroom. "Mom? Dad?" Rose called. They had to be around here somewhere. She heard the creak of a door and running water and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the mirror and the bills were just some kind of practical joke.

"Baby," said an unfamiliar voice, and Rose jumped a foot in the air. The voice belonged to an Asian man with spiky black hair who was wearing nothing but a dark blue rowel around his waist. "Where's the conditioner?"

"You're naked," Rose hissed, revolted at this. "Who are you? My parents are going to be home any minute!"

The man chuckled. "I'm not naked yet," he said. "You can join me if you want." He dropped the towel, but Rose thought quickly, grabbing an umbrella and popping it open just in time to avoid seeing his manhood.

Rose scurried over to the door and scooped up the purse that was lying on the table. She shoved her arms into the coat hanging on the hook and put on the high heeled sliver sandals that were lying on the floor. She ran out of the apartment without realizing she was still in her pink nightgown.

In the elevator, Rose was confronted by a light melody ringing over and over again. She wondered if she was going crazy. _'Breathe, Rose, breathe. It's going to be OK. You'll go somewhere quiet and figure this out.'_

Outside of the apartment building, Rose heard the melody once more. People were rushing by her on all sides. "Excuse me! Excuse me, sit, can you hear the music?" Rose could tell her voice was growing shrill and frantic.

"Rose!" a familiar voice called. Rose spun around to see a tall brunette standing by a Town Car. The figure was pointing at the door, looking anxious. "Rose, would you just get in the car? We have a meeting in twenty minutes! Get in the car!" The woman snapped a phone open and began barking orders at the person on the other end. "Just get him to San Angeles by tomorrow or I'll have you fired!"

"I don't get in the car with strangers!" Rose called back as the woman tossed the small phone back into her purple purse. The woman rolled her eyes and stomped over to Rose. She grabbed Rose by the wrist and pulled her into the car, slamming the door behind them.

"God," the other girl said. "What is it with you?" Brown eyes looked Rose over critically. "Honey, I know I'm your best friend, but the slip dress is a little '97. Unless it's retro...?"

"You're my best friend?" Rose wondered. She'd realized who this other woman was just a moment ago: Mira. Her idol. Were they really friends? Rose found it all just a little hard to believe.

"You're pregnant," Mira said flatly.

"No, no!" Rose exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "I'm not pregnant."

"Thank God. It's just a hangover. What did you and Dax _do_ last night?" Mira asked suggestively.

"The naked guy," Rose breathed, realizing that Mira must think she was a total–

"Driver, could you please stop the car; we're here," Mira screeched, interrupting Rose's thoughts. The car skidded to a stop and Mira stepped onto the sidewalk. "Hurry up, Rose." Rose did as she'd been instructed, still in a daze.

She followed Mira around the corner as the strange music started to play again. "What is that?" Rose demanded. Mira knew everything. She would explain the phenomenon that was following Rose around.

"You really are hung over," Mira commented, disapproval in her voice. "Listen to me: You are thirty years old. The year is 2004. The noise is a cell phone," Mira sad slowly, as if explaining one and one made two. She snatched the pink purse Rose was carrying and fished out a small phone similar to the one she'd been talking on earlier.

"Cell phone?" Rose repeated. What a strange name…but if it was 2004, she really _was_ thirty like she'd guessed. "Mira, I'm thirteen!"

"Go with twenty-seven, Rose." Mira handed the phone to her. "Gonna answer it or what?" She got her answer from Rose's confused face. "I guess I will. It's probably just Richard."

"Richard?"

"Your boss. Brown curly hair, blue eyes, British…" Mira pressed a button on the phone and handed it to Rose. "Talk," she hissed."

"Hello?" Rose asked as she hurried to keep up with Mira.

"Hi beautiful. Why'd you run off on me like that?" the voice she now recognized as Dax asked.

"He thinks I'm beautiful?" Rose asked Mira, incredulous. Only her parents had called her beautiful. It was a nice change to hear it from a man who _wasn't _related to her.

"He should, he's your boyfriend," Mira said with another roll of her eyes. She took the phone back. "Dax, Rose is hung over. She'll call you back later." Mira dropped the phone into Rose's purse and stopped outside of a tall building with big windows. "Repeat after me: I am Rose Ortiz, big time magazine editor."

"I am?" Rose asked, but the annoyed look on Mira's face clearly wasn't scoring her any points. "I am Rose Ortiz, big time magazine editor."

"I'm a tough bitch."

Rose looked embarrassed. "I'm a tough…bitch," she whispered, looking around as if her mother would pop out of nowhere and reprimand her.

"I'm going into that office and not going to let anyone know I have a hangover."

Rose repeated this hurriedly and followed Mira inside. A receptionist spoke cheerfully. "Good morning, Miss Ortiz. Good morning, Miss Trix."

"Good morning," Rose replied. "What's her name?" she asked Mira.

"Who cares?" Mira strode into the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. When they arrived, all hell was breaking loose. It was pure chaos.

"They just got here," a bald man said, dashing towards the two of them holding two designs. "Which one, Rose?"

"Pick one," Mira muttered.

"The red one," Rose said.

"Genius! Knew it! Love it!" the man shrieked as he ran away again.

"Eminem is on the phone. He wants your decision, Miss Ortiz," a particularly dowdy looking woman said as she approached the two nervously.

"Plain."

The woman looked confused as she walked away again. "Ah, there's my dynamic duo," a new voice greeted the two. He gestured that they were to follow him, and Rose and Mira promptly spun around to go back the way they'd come.

"You're Richard," Rose said brightly. Wow. Maybe it _was _a good thing that she was so smart: she was keeping up fairly well now.

"That's right baby. Who's your daddy?"

"Tim Ortiz!"

The trio entered a conference room and sat down. The frumpy woman from the hallway brought Rose a cup of coffee. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Ortiz?" she asked quietly.

"Like a favor?"

"Sure…like a favor." The woman looked confused again. Rose wrote down a name she'd known her whole life, along with his phone number.

"Call him for me." Rose smiled appreciatively and turned away again, writing her name on top of the paper in her best cursive. She drew a small heart next to the 'z' in Ortiz, bored.

"Well," Richard said, "_Sparkle_ has out-scooped us once again." He pointed to the two magazines, "Which one does Mary Housewife go for, the tenth or the eleventh secret? Hmm?" Rose raised her hand and then lowered it, embarrassed. Richard heaved a dramatic sigh. "They must have _Sparkle_ cams in all our walls."

"We're installing new securities," Mira said, her voice patient now that she was talking to her boss. "And Rose fired Charlotte yesterday."

"Good. She always took notes."

"She was a secretary."

"Whatever. Our party tonight is huge. We've got to show the world that _Poise _is still hot. What do you think, Rose? Any new ideas?"

"Can I go to the bathroom?" She tried to get out of her rolling chair and fell onto the floor. Embarrassed, she got up and left silently.

"She's a little hung over today," Mira said to the others.

Rose found an office door with her name on it. She went inside, finding pictures of her with various celebrities on the walls. She really was cool. A twinge of excitement went through her.

The door opened and the secretary came in again. "I found your friend. The number you gave me was his father's house. I told him that I worked for Visa and that Mack was in big trouble."

"You lied to Mr. Hartford?" Rose was impressed.

The secretary nodded. "He said your friend lives here in the city. He's in the village at 226 East 15th street."

Rose nodded eagerly. "Which village?"


	4. Mack

_A little note from Red: Brief drug references in this chapter._

**13 Going on 30**

The secretary was kind enough to remind Rose that her name was Arlene. She thoughtfully explained that Mack lived in the Red Rose Village in the heart of San Angeles. She told Rose that the taxi ride would probably cost about twenty dollars.

"Thanks so much," Rose said, truly meaning her words of gratitude. Arlene did not look sure of this. Rose had noticed the older woman seemed to be slightly afraid of her. She wondered why.

Outside of the _Poise_ office, Rose stood on the sidewalk in her long tan coat, trying to hail a cab. She waved timidly as traffic rushed by her. She felt self conscious – she was supposed to be a Mensa level genius. Finally, one stopped and Rose climbed in.

She found Mack's building easily and strode up the two steps confidently. Mack would help her remember her life. Rose gazed at the small chart on the wall by the door, scanning it for the name "Hartford." There it was. Rose punched the button.

"Hello?"

"Look Mack, it's me, Rose. I don't know if you're the same Mack but if you used to live on Spruce Street and if you used to love the Beatles then I need to talk to you right now!" She was out of breath by the time she finished.

"I didn't get a word of that. If you're here from Ming Gardens ring twice. Other than that, I'm not interested."

Rose frowned. Well, she hadn't come all this way to leave without talking to her best friend in the whole world. She pressed the small button next to Mack's name two times and then swung the gate open.

His apartment was 5A. Rose rapped on the door impatiently. She ran her fingers through her hair and straightened the collar of her coat. Rose took a deep breath as she heard footsteps approach on the other side of the door.

"You're not Chinese." He sounded just the same, only his voice was deeper. He looked different, though. He'd lost all of his baby fat, but his messy brown curls and bright blue eyes were the same as they'd always been. Rose couldn't remember ever being so happy to see someone.

"Mack, it's me!" Rose cried. On the other side of the bolted door, Mack raised an eyebrow, processing the information.

"Rose. Rose Ortiz," Mack said slowly. Rose nodded eagerly, an easy smile crossing her face. He slammed the door in her face. Rose's heart sunk. Why did he hate her? She turned to go.

But then the lock clicked and the door creaked open again. Rose spun around and threw her petite frame into Mack's arms, squeezing him tightly. He was stiff in her embrace. "Come on in."

"It's the strangest thing. Yesterday I was thirteen, and you were there, only it wasn't yesterday because I'm _not _thirteen." She looked at him, her deep brown eyes shining, "Oh Mackie. You're tall now, and you're different…"

"Yeah," Mack said slowly. "I grew up. So did you." _'Just not with me,' _he added to himself. What was she doing here? He closed the door as Rose walked down the two stairs to the rest of the apartment.

"You still take pictures," she said softly, running a long slender finger over one.

"Pays the bills," Mack replied as he followed his guest. He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. This was the most awkward situation he'd been in since high school, easily. "Hey Rose, why are you here?"

"Mack, I told you. Yesterday was my thirteenth birthday, and today I woke up and I'm this!" She pointed to herself. "And you, you're that! Do you get it?" Her face was worried as she waited for his reaction. She must have sounded crazy.

That was indeed Mack's first thought. "Are you high? Have you been smoking pot, doing X…are you doing drugs?"

"No, no, I'm not doing drugs, Mack. The last thing I remember was sitting in my closet and I must have skipped everything. It's a weird dream – I can't remember my life! You need to help me remember, Mack. Please." Her voice was desperate.

"Me?"

"Yes."

"I can't do that, Rose." Mack shook his head for emphasis as Rose's face twisted into a look of disbelief.

"Why not?" she asked, and there was suddenly a childlike quality to her tone.

"I don't know anything about you. I haven't seen you since high school, Rose. We're not friends anymore." He said this as gently as he could because Rose did not seem to be in a good place right now. She stepped closer to him, her eyes sad.

"Mackie, you're my best friend."

"No I'm not."

Rose's breath began to come in sharp gasps and Mack sensed a breakdown. "It's OK! It's OK!" he said quietly. Rose began to back towards the couch and Mack gently pushed her down. "It's cool." He eased her back against the cushions.

"I think I need some air, and maybe a glass of water," Rose choked out weakly. Mack nodded.

"Do you want ice?"

"I want a fluffy pillow!" Rose shrieked.

Mack held his hands up in front of himself. "Fluffy pillow and a glass of water, coming right up." He backed away from the petite woman slowly, running into the wall. Great. Twelve years had gone by and he _still_ made a fool of himself in front of her.

He led Rose outside to a bench and motioned for her to sit. He handed her the pillow and the water. Rose hugged the pillow in its red case tightly and sipped the water, looking like a little girl. "Are you OK?" Mack asked.

Rose gave a noncommittal shrug. "Rose, I think you should go back to your apartment. I can help you find it." She nodded as he swallowed the sip of water.

As they walked, Mack did his best to explain to Rose why they weren't friends anymore. "We grew apart, Rose. We went to different colleges and had different careers. It happens."

"But what about Christmas? Didn't you want to see me during the holidays?" A Christmas from twenty years ago flashed through Rose's mind and she smiled at the memory. They'd had so many wonderful times growing up together.

"I saw you through the window at your parents' house five or six years ago," Mack answered as they continued on their walk. "But I think your crowd does St. Bart's for Christmas," he added. "I don't know, Rose. I don't know."

They had come to Rose's building now. "Is this you?" Mack asked, pointing to the door.

She heaved a dramatic sigh. "Yeah, I guess this is where I live now." Rose remembered the naked guy – Dax – from this morning and hoped he wasn't hanging around now. She moved closer to the door. Rose dug through her pink purse to find her keys, her brown eyes locked on Mack while she searched.

"It was nice to see you," Mack told his old friend in a quiet but sincere voice. "Good luck, Rose. I hope you get this all figured out." She would, Mack decided, Rose was a smart woman. She always had been. "OK?"

"OK."

"Bye."

"Bye." Mack forced himself to turn away from Rose. He started down the street, ready to forget this whole strange day, when she called to him. "Who's St. Bart?"

It would be wrong to leave Rose now, when she so obviously needed someone to help straighten her out. Mack smiled and followed her inside.

Rose found two Diet Cokes in her refrigerator while Mack searched through the bookshelves in the living room. He found four books – just the ones he'd wanted. As Mack perched on the stool next to Rose's, he groaned. "These are only the four most depressing years of my life."

"I was a Six Chick," Rose said incredulously.

"Yep. You were their leader, actually," Mack replied.

"There's Mir-Mir." She pointed.

"Last I heard you two were still pretty good friends. I think you even work together at some magazine. She's pretty big into the plastic surgery scene. Does she look the same?"

Rose shrugged. "More or less." She flipped the page and gasped. "I was the prom queen. And I went with Will Aston." Rose sighed dreamily, tracing the heart-shaped outline of the photograph. "I got everything I ever wanted."

"Yeah, Rose. You've had a nice life," Mack said as he got up. He looked around at the expensively furnished apartment. "You've got it made alright, Rose. Congratulations."

The house phone rang suddenly. Rose looked around, remembering the "cell phone" from earlier and wondering if it was Mack's "cell phone." He spoke up. "It's your phone," he told her.

Rose ran into the living room where the noise was coming from. She dive bombed the red couch and snatched up the silver house phone. "Hello?" Rose answered, feeling incredibly cool.

"Yes, I'm calling to confirm your limousine pickup for eight-thirty this evening," the woman on the other end informed Rose.

Confusion crossed Rose's face. "My limo?" Then Rose suddenly remembered that she was now a grown woman and a big time magazine editor. "My limo," Rose repeated, her tone now confident. "I will be prepared to take my ride at that time. Can you remind me of the address?"

"27 Floor Street."

Mack watched Rose's face light up as she talked. He slowly headed towards the door – clearly Rose didn't need him to help her any longer. She laughed suddenly. "I'm going to a party in a limo! That's so cool!"

"Great. Looks like you're feeling better now, Rose. I should probably go." He placed his hand on the doorknob as Rose got up and joined him. Her eyes were sad again. She didn't want him to leave yet.

"Don't you want to come to the party?"

"I have to work."

"Oh yeah. You have a job. That's kinda cool that we both have jobs." Rose grinned. "If you get a chance, though, you should totally come. It's at 27 Floor Street."

"OK," Mack replied, but he knew he wouldn't go. That was Rose's crowd, Rose's world, not his. He hadn't fit into Rose's life since he was a pudgy thirteen-year-old with a crush on the girl next door. "Thanks. Bye-bye."

"Mack, what if this isn't just a dream? What if this life I have now is real? What if I really did get everything I ever wanted?"

"Enjoy it," Mack advised. "Bye, Rose." He opened the door and walked out into the hall.

"Mackie?"

"Yeah?"

"Arrivederci."

"Bye." He hit the button for the elevator.

"Mack!"

"Au revoir."


	5. Saving the Party

**13 Going On 30**

Rose got out of her luxuriously warm shower, wrapped in a fluffy pink towel. Being a wealthy magazine editor definitely had its perks, Rose thought, remembering the scent of the high end shampoo and body was stocked in the shower. She smiled contentedly.

She found a silky pink robe hanging on one of the bed posts and slipped into it before sitting down at her vanity. Rose hoped that by now she had learned to properly apply make-up. She lined up what she thought she would need neatly and then took a deep breath. _'You can do this, Rose,' _the petite woman told herself.

Rose reached for her foundation first and found that she _could_ do this now, and it came _easily._ She was very pleased as she finished applying foundation and coated her lips with bright pink lipstick. This was a breeze.

Next she took a tray of multicolored eye shadow and brushed a lavender color onto hey eyelids. Rose smiled at the effect. One of the last things Rose remembered was her mother telling her that she was gorgeous. Finally, she felt beautiful, like a princess whose happily ever after had come at last.

Rose blended two shades of pink blush onto her cheeks and then decided her face was presentable. With another smile, she unfolded herself from her little stool and headed into her closed. She couldn't wait to see what _that_ would have in store for her.

She padded barefoot into the room and switched the lights on. "Wow," she breathed. Rose ventured through the closet slowly, drinking in all of the expensive handbags and clothes. She ran her hands over the fabrics, loving all of the textures she felt: silk, satin, velvet, Egyptian cotton. She really was a princess.

At the end of all the racks of clothes, Rose looked up. She let out a happy puff of air at the sight. Like every girl, Rose loved shoes, and here were about seventy-five pairs of them, neatly organized by color and heel size. What a beautiful sight. She wondered how she would ever choose one pair.

In the end, Rose was pleased with her choices. She wore a knee length dress with red and pink diagonal stripes that swirled together at the hem like a piece of peppermint candy. She paired this with a pair of sandals with thick pink leather stripes and two inch heels. She wore a big butterfly pendant with red rhinestones on a chain of pink beads and matching pink beaded earrings.

As Rose flounced into the elevator, she noticed a young girl with red hair standing in the corner. The young girl was dressed in navy blue – boring, Rose decided. Oh, well. The red haired girl was young. She would learn.

Rose felt the younger girl's eyes on her, and she looked over at the elevator's other occupant. "I'm Rose by the way," she told the red head. She smiled.

"Yeah, I know." The teenage girl's voice was cold. "I'm Becky."

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"Me too!" Rose exclaimed. Becky looked confused, arching an eyebrow. "Well, I used to be," Rose corrected herself. She looked away.

"Why are you talking to me?" Becky demanded.

Now Rose was confused. "We _are_ neighbors, right?"

"You usually ignore me."

Rose shrugged. "I like your shoes."

"I like your dress."

Rose beamed. "I'm not flat chested anymore. I fill it out now!"

Then the elevator landed in the lobby. Rose got out first, striding out into the hallway like she owned the place. She liked the sound her shoes made on the marble floor. "I like your bag," Becky offered as she struggled to keep Rose's pace.

"Come by sometime. I'll give you one. I've got a million of them."

"Really?" Becky asked, incredulous.

Rose nodded. "Sure. It would be really cool, like having a little sister."

Becky grinned. "OK. I will. Bye, Rose. Have fun at your party."

"Oh, I will," Rose promised as she pushed open the big glass door. The limo was waiting for her, complete with a door opening chauffer. "Miss Ortiz," he said as she slid in.

San Angeles at night was beautiful. Everything was lit up, like at Christmas. Rose stood on the backseat and stuck her head out of the sunroof, feeling on top of the world, like someone special. Rose gazed around in wonder. This was the life.

And then the sleek black limo stopped in front of a palace-sized museum. The chauffer opened the door for Rose again. "I'll be back at two to escort you home, Miss Ortiz," he told her.

Rose nodded and ran up the steps to the museum's door. A super-sized version of the poster she'd chosen hung from above the door frame.

Beautifully, expensively dressed people seemed to be covering every square inch of the floor as Rose arrived into the main room. She felt as if she really belonged here, and suddenly didn't matter that she couldn't remember seventeen years of her life.

She made her way through the crowd, waving at people who called her name. She saw a man stuff a huge crab leg into his mouth and then wash it down with an entire martini. She shrugged.

Rose took a little finger sandwich from a caterer's tray and tossed the toothpick over her shoulder carelessly. It landed in a guest's drink and he glared after her. Rose didn't notice.

And then she spotted Mira talking to a cute guy who kissed her cheek and left as Rose approached. "Hey Mir-Mir!" Rose greeted loudly over the blaring music. Mira frowned and rolled her deep brown eyes in disgust.

"Oh God, Rose, no one's called me Mir-Mir since I had my nose job six years ago."

"You had a nose job?" Rose asked, suddenly remembering what Mack had told her earlier. She wished he had come to the party – they could learn to be friends again, Rose knew it. But her thoughts were interrupted by another caterer approaching the duo.

"Anything to drink ladies?"

"An apple martini," Mira said loudly.

"A lemonade," Rose said automatically, still thinking like a thirteen-year-old. "Oh wait, on second thought, I'll have a piña colada, not virgin. Do you want to see my ID, because I totally have it," she added.

The caterer shook her head as a British accent called over to Rose and Mira. "There you two are," he said as he joined his editors. He looked the two of them over. "Mira," Richard said, taking her hand and spinning her around. "Lovely, darling. Purple is your color." Richard looked over to Rose. "You look like Valentine's Day, but you can definitely pull it off."

The trio parted then, off to make sure their carefully planned soiree was doing well. Rose watched from the second storey as the party goers talked and laughed, never noticing how thin the crowd was getting. She had just finished her second piña colada when someone tapped her on the shoulder and handed her a new drink. She smiled. What a lovely job these caterers did. Rose would leave a big tip.

Rose watched Richard walk backwards as he talked to a couple who were obviously trying to lave. "Oh, come on," she heard him say, desperation in his voice. The couple sidestepped him and stalked off to the door.

The petite woman decided to return to the ground floor. Towards the bottom of the staircase, she ran into Mira. "It's eleven o'clock on a school night and I'm at an awesome party! It's so cool!"

"It's eleven o'clock and people are leaving," Mira hissed. "It's a disaster." The duo hit the ground floor landing and came face to face with a thin woman whose frizzy red hair looked uncombed. "Trish Sackett. Great," Mira groaned. "_Sparkle_'s editor in chief," she added to Rose.

"Hi girls," Trish simpered. "Our J-Lo issue is just _walking_ off newsstands. How's yours doing?" she asked as she raised her drink to her lips. She took a big gulp as she waited for a response.

"God, are things so bad that you had to come to our party for some free food?" Mira replied, her tone scathing. "Put some crab in your purse for later, if you want."

"A word of advice, Mira. Keep some of that biting wit for your own magazine," Trish spat. "Or you could change the name to, oh, I don't know, _Poison _or _Pitiful._ Whatever's more _pathetic._" She took another sip from her glass.

"You know what?" Rose demanded angrily. "You are rude, sloppy, mean, and frizzy. I don't like you at all." She resisted the urge to stick out her tongue like a five-year-old.

"Too bad I only care about winning, not being liked." Trish strode away as Richard caught up to Rose and Mira.

"Ladies, do I smell? Do I have bad breath? Am I malodorous in any way?" Rose thought her boss meant his statements literally, and so she leaned in close, trying to catch a whiff.

"No," she said a moment later.

"Really? Because people are running for the exits like someone set off a giant stink bomb."

"I don't smell anything."

Mira groaned; Rose had been so strange today. "He means the party is a stinker, a dud, a flop, a zero…" She looked at Rose pointedly, hoping she would understand now.

Rose thought for a moment, concentrating on the music in the background. It was so boring, so dull. Rose had an idea. "Maybe if someone played something other than this," she waved a hand towards the DJ booth, "Something with a melody…"

"Go for it. Play whatever you want, darling. Just make them start dancing or we'll all be retiring early," Richard said. He drained his glass and then dropped it. It broke into a hundred little pieces. "Yippee," he added bitterly.

Rose nodded, understanding her mission. She took her purse and drink and handed them to Mira. Then she stood up straight and marched over to the DJ. "Can you play 'Thriller?'" she whispered. The DJ nodded. Rose smiled appreciatively and then marched out to the center of the dance floor. She felt very alone.

Mira and Richard stared at Rose as the opening note to "Thriller" played. A spotlight focused on her and Rose nervously began to dance. The party guests began to bob their heads to the music, and Rose spotted Mack in the crowd. He _had_ come. Maybe he did want to be friends again.

"Mack, come here!" she called, her voice frantic. "Mackie, it's 'Thriller,'" Rose said. "Come here!" The spotlight fell on the simply dressed man and he shook his head. Rose frowned. She ran over to him. "Dance with me," Rose whined. She pulled Mack after her.

"Rose, please. I don't want to. Are you crazy?" Mack protested as he allowed Rose to deposit him in the middle of the dance floor. She started to dance again, and with a sigh, he followed her lead, though it was far less graceful than Rose's perfectly timed movements.

"Come _on_, Mack," Rose said encouragingly. People were now joining the old friends in the dancing, and Rose felt a surge of pride. Her idea was working, and maybe she had her best friend back. The thought excited her.

"OK, here we go," Mack murmured as he fell more in synch with Rose. "Here we go." Rose smiled over at him as she raised her arms above her head and clapped her hands. Mack felt like a teenager again. _This _was the Rose he had grown up with. _This _was his Rose.

As more and more people joined in, the lift in the party's atmosphere was almost tangible. She had saved the party, and maybe the entire magazine.

Mack caught sight of Rose, looking so beautiful that it hurt. He suddenly remembered the woman in Florida who was wearing his ring and decided he had to go. He snatched Rose's tiny warm hand from the air to get her attention. "I have to go," he told her.

"Stay, Mack. Please." But he had already crossed half of the room. He turned to wave at her before disappearing completely.

"I adore you!" Richard screamed over the music. Rose grinned and went back to dancing. She had a party to save.


	6. Surprises

**13 Going on 30**

Rose got through the rest of the week uneventfully. She was able to figure out exactly what her duties were at the magazine, and, not to her surprise, she mastered them immediately. She began to look forward to coming to work every day. OK, so Rose still had no memories of the last seventeen years. She would just do the best she could with the knowledge she had.

On the Saturday after the party, Rose got up unnecessarily early. She dressed in a cheerful dress covered in huge multicolored polka dots and comfortable white sandals – she would be walking a lot today. She had money – why not spend a little of it? She deserved to treat herself to some new Chanel outfits.

Mira claimed that she had plans for the day, so Rose headed out to shop alone. And she had fun. Every store she came out of was represented with many bags full of expensive clothes, purses, and shoes. Clerks chased after her with even _more_ purchases – but what did it matter if she splurged a little? She was young and beautiful. The world was her oyster.

The next day, Rose put on one of her new outfits: a white scoop neck top and a knee length pink denim skirt. She walked through one of the biggest parks in San Angeles, eating ice cream and watching children make huge bubbles. How lovely it was to be young.

A dog walker was taking his charges around the park's manmade lake. Rose stopped to pet a shaggy golden retriever and laughed when he stole her ice cream cone right out of her hand.

Rose went back to her luxury apartment building after her walk through the park. She felt happy – she'd had a good, relaxing weekend. There was no better way to finish off a perfect weekend than with a sappy old move, preferably black and white.

The petite woman gathered up a bunch of salty snack foods from her well stocked kitchen cabinets and lugged them into her bedroom. She changed into the pink nightdress she'd worn the night before, applied her guacamole mask and climbed onto her bed. She stretched out on top of her crushed velvet bedspread and turned her TV to an old movie channel. _Casablanca._ Perfect.

At work on Monday, Mira dropped by Rose's office, looking fashionable as ever in a black and purple black skirt and a tight black T-shirt. "Hey, biatch. Let's go out tonight. To make up for me being busy last Saturday." She looked…excited.

Rose smiled warmly. She could still not believe that someone as utterly _cool_ as Mira wanted to hang out with her. But she was cool now, too, Rose reminded herself. "Sure. Where do you want to go?" she asked, mentally going through her closet at home to select an outfit.

"There's a quiet little bar and restaurant over on the West Side. The bartender's not bad looking." Mira giggled, and Rose had a rushing feeling of acceptance. Here she was, talking about guys with Mira. So her middle school years had been the tiniest bit awkward. She had clearly made up for it. She belonged in this world. She was beyond cool, and Mira Trix was her best friend.

"Alright. Meet you there at seven?"

"See you there, biatch," Mira replied as she sauntered away.

--

Rose stepped out onto the dirty gray sidewalk to hail a cab. She was excited to spend a night out with Mira – it was the kind of fun thing that best girlfriends did together. She didn't remember having girlfriends – just hanging out with Mack for the first thirteen years of her life. This would be a nice change.

She gave the driver the address and sat in silence during the ride. As the taxi slid to a smooth stop in the West Side, Rose forked over a five and a few ones. "Keep the change," she said brightly.

Mira was waiting, sitting on a long stool at the bar. Rose scurried over. "Hi," Rose greeted. "Have you been waiting for me long? Sorry if you have." She smiled at the taller girl.

"Nope. Just a minute or two." Mira's brown eyes looked Rose over, as they always did when the two friends saw each other. "Cute dress."

"Thanks." Rose turned her attention to the recently arrived bartender. "I will have a margarita and my friend will have-" she caught Mira's eye, "An apple martini, if I'm not mistaken."

Mira nodded. "She's right." Rose laughed; she knew everything. It was official. "Rose is such a genius. Best friends for seventeen years and _now_ she knows I get the same drink every time we go out." She shoved the other girl playfully.

The bartender came back with the duo's drinks a few moments later. "Thank you," Rose murmured, setting her long black straw down on a napkin. She picked up her drink. "To being thirty. I decided that it's going to be really, really cool." She caught Mira's attention and motioned for her taller friend to pick up her drink.

"Of course it is," Mira replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She clinked her glass against Rose's gently, and the two took sips. "I mean, you're young, you're hot, and you could have any guy you want."

"Not to mention, biatch, I'm the hottest magazine editor in the world." Rose smiled smugly. This was what she'd been missing all those years ago in middle school – self confidence. Now that she had it, Rose wasn't about to let it go.

"I think you're the second hottest, actually."

"Tied for first," Rose compromised, feeling that confidence slip away instantly. She didn't want Mira to get angry at her.

"Deal." Mira clinked her glass against Rose's once more, catching sight of a man over Rose's shoulder. "Oh, my God. Don't look now, but that hottie behind you is totally checking you out."

Rose set her drink down on her napkin and casually turned her head to see who Mira was talking about. Her friend had definitely been right, though – that guy sitting behind them _was_ really cute. "No way." Mira nodded. "Should I go talk to him?" Rose asked nervously.

"Well, you're not married," Mira encouraged. Rose did as Mira had advised. She slipped off of her stool gracefully and stood up to her full height. She took a deep breath and walked over.

Mira watched Rose walk past the guy she'd been talking about. Rose instead stopped beside a booth where a boy was sitting. He was only about twelve or thirteen and Rose was _flirting_ with him.

Unaware of the horrified look on Mira's face, Rose spoke to the boy. "Can I borrow your ketchup?"

The boy shrugged. "Sure." He lifted the bottle and held it out for Rose to take.

Rose was really nervous now. "Um, I actually came over here because…because I think that you're really cute." The young boy grinned – he couldn't believe this.

Mira couldn't believe it, either. She marched over to where Rose stood just in time to hear the minor ask the very legal Rose if she'd like to go out. "Enough, Rose. It's time to go," Mira said in a falsely cheerful voice. She grabbed Rose's arm in a very firm grip and began to pull her friend away. "Do you _want _to go to jail? I _meant_ that guy." She pointed at the man as they passed.

"Gross," Rose replied. She made a face as Mira led her outside. It was cold. She wished she had thought to bring a jacket.

The street was empty and wet – it must have rained while the girls were inside. From across the street, Rose could see a fairly large crowd gathering outside of a movie theater. "It's the naked man." Rose could never remember to call him Dax – the first memory she had of him probably indicated the reason.

He caught her eye, and he waved. "Hey, beautiful!"

"He thinks I'm beautiful." Rose still could not get over this fact. She felt so special. "Hey Mira, Dax is my boyfriend, right?" Mira nodded. "So why is that lady asking for his autograph?"

Mira pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse and lit one. After taking a puff, she looked at Dax and then back at Rose. "He's not the best actor ever, but he's got a pretty nice butt."

Rose giggled. Then a new voice joined the two. "Rose?" Mack asked. Rose's head snapped up, and even though she didn't realize it until later, her heart rate went up.

"Mack!" she exclaimed happily. She ran to give him another bone crushing hug. She hadn't seen him for nearly an entire week.

"How are you?" he asked as she let go of him. He was very aware that Rose was careful to keep a hand on his shoulder. He almost wished that she wouldn't. It would only make it that much harder when they parted again. "I'm sorry about the other night, Rose," Mack added.

"Beaver?" Mira's tone was shocked. She stepped closer – it _was_ Beaver. But he was different now. If he wasn't _Beaver_, she thought he would probably be kind of sexy.

"Mir-Mir. How have you been?" She was Rose's friend. Maybe she wasn't really that bad. Mack realized sadly that Mira probably _was_ that bad – maybe even worse than he suspected.

"You lost all of your baby fat. How does little Beaver stay warm in the winter?" Mira simpered with a cold smirk. How pathetic.

Mack laughed, going along with Mira's cruel words. "Nice to see you, too. Did you get a nose job?" He didn't notice the look Rose gave Mira, or maybe things would have changed right then.

"I can't believe you're here," Rose said, changing the subject flawlessly. She wanted her and Mack to be friends again. Surely it wasn't too much to ask that he and Mira not kill each other.

"Oh." Mack fell silent for a moment, looking back towards one of the stores. "I'm actually doing some shopping with my…uh…" His voice trailed off as a new woman joined the trio. "Rose, this is Ronny, my fiancée."

It caught Rose by complete surprise. "Oh." It hurt more than it should, but Rose brushed it off as hurt that he hadn't told her he was getting married. She looked Ronny over and found Mack's fiancée to be a very pretty woman. She looked nice – a good girl for Mack. "Wow."

"Mack told me about his blast from the past." Ronny's voice sounded bubbly – she liked to have fun, Rose guessed. That was good. Mack could be so serious sometimes. He was fun in his own way, of course, but maybe Ronny would be good for him. "It was so sweet of you to stop by."

"Mackie is the sweet one," Rose said firmly. "Are you a photographer, too?" She wondered how the two had met. Rose noticed Ronny nudge Mack.

"I see you two have spent so much time talking about me. I'm a racecar driver." Ronny caught Mack's eye, "We were just talking about Mack joining me in Florida. I just won the Daytona 500."

Rose supposed she should have congratulated Ronny for this, but all she could think was Mack moving across the country to _Florida._ "You're moving to Florida?" she cried. Why hadn't he told her?

"Yes," Ronny replied in a ridiculous cooing tone of voice, like she was talking to a baby. She looked up at Mack adoringly.

"It's not for sure," Mack told Rose quietly. He looked up as footsteps approached. "Is that Dax Lo?"

"Rose, baby," Dax said, gathering Rose in a hug and kissing her full on the lips. "I'm so sorry I'm late. The premiere in LA was pushed back until eight, but I got back up here as quick as I could." He grinned a dorky grin.

Mack didn't like the sound of anyone calling Rose 'baby.' It made him want to hurt things, a completely illogical reaction. He hadn't seen Rose for years until last week when she'd suddenly tumbled back into his life. There was no reason to be jealous. Dax was talking again. "Who are you?"

"Um, this is my old friend Mack and his friend Ronny," Rose said awkwardly. "Mack, Ronny, this is…" She glanced at Dax for help, but he didn't seem to understand.

"You're Dax Lo. I'm a big fan," Mack said as he stretched out a hand so they could shake.

"Do you want me to sign something?" Dax asked eagerly.

Mack shook his head. "Actually, Ronny and I should get going. She has a flight tomorrow and she still has some packing to do."

Rose watched as Mack and Ronny walked off hand in hand. She thought she recognized the feeling of jealousy. She brushed it off again. Dax still had his arm around her. "Can I steal her, Mira?"

Mira nodded. "Have a good night."

"Mira!" Rose ran after her friend. "Should I go to Dax's place alone?"

"You deserve to have fun. Go play." Mira smiled suggestively.

"Like games? Like Battleship?"

"All _kinds_ of games."


	7. Boys are Dumb

**13 Going on 30**

Dax took Rose back to his huge penthouse apartment. He talked about nothing but himself the whole way back, telling Rose about how successful he thought his new movie was going to be and how Steven Spielberg and Quentin Tarentino were fighting to have him in their next movies. Rose found it all very boring. Surely Dax could at least ask about her life and her projects.

By the time they reached Dax's building, Rose was wishing she had just gone home, or that she had at least stayed to hang out with Mira. She couldn't understand what was so special about Dax. Why was she dating him? It made no sense to the petite woman.

He had a cool bachelor pad, Rose had to admit. Along one wall of the living room was a massive tank containing a miniature tiger shark. Rose watched it swim the length of its tank, feeling as trapped here as it was. Where had Dax gone? Would it be rude to just slip out?

Rose got her answer when his hands reached in front of her and set down two glasses of red wine. Then he slid the straps of her dress off of her shoulders. Rose felt very uncomfortable with this, and she twisted away from Dax and put the straps back on her shoulders. He frowned and then leaned in and kissed her neck.

"I couldn't wait to see you tonight," Dax murmured in her ear. His breath smelled like tuna – hadn't he at least brushed his teeth today? Rose tried not to breathe in the nasty scent, thinking quickly. Anything to make Dax stop touching her.

"Do you want to play a game? Do you have Battleship?" Rose asked hopefully. It had been she and Mack's favorite game growing up. For a split second Rose wished she were the one at Mack's apartment tonight.

"Oh, I have Battleship," Dax answered. "And later, baby, I'll show you my destroyer." Rose, innocent like a thirteen year old, didn't get Dax's dirty little joke. "I call the blue board."

"Great. I'll be the red board." Rose made a path towards the couch. Dax followed with the wine glasses in his hands. He plopped down beside Rose on the black leather couch. He put his arm on the back of the couch and leaned in towards Rose, kissing her ear.

Rose giggled as Dax wrapped his arms around her tightly and started to kiss his way down her neck. She tried in vain to put her hands in his way. Rose really wished she could just go home. The idea of a boyfriend wasn't as appealing now that she knew what this boy liked to do. It was uncomfortable.

"What?" Dax asked as he continued to kiss her. He thought Rose was enjoying his kissing expertise. Rose continued to laugh and try to escape, and then it hit him. "Oh, I'm sorry, baby. I forgot that I owe you the best striptease of your life."

Dax stood up, much to Rose's relief. He picked up a small remote lying on the coffee table and pressed the play button. Music began to fill the room.

"Who's too sexy on screen and off screen, baby?" Dax asked as he took off his dark blue shirt. He twirled it over his head like a lasso and then tossed it at Rose.

"Gross," Rose whispered, disgusted with both Dax and herself. What kind of person _enjoyed_ this? Why had he told her that he "owed" her a striptease? Had the last time they'd been together been her turn? Rose had a sudden vision of herself in silky lingerie that she was modeling for Dax. What was wrong with her?

Now Dax had removed his pants. He was wearing nothing but blue boxers, and he was slowly dancing closer and closer to Rose. She had to get out of here, and fast. She threw one of the couch's pillows at Dax. "Keep it in!" Rose shrieked. "I don't want to see it again!"

Dax looked from the pillow to Rose and back again. "I don't get it, baby," he told her, his face confused. "Am I going too slowly for you?" Dax suddenly grinned. "Oh, I know…you always did like to take my clothes off yourself."

This was the final straw for Rose. Keeping one hand cupped over her eyes, she picked up her purse and headed for the door. "I have to go!" She didn't bother to look behind her as she ran into the hallway and into an open elevator.

Thankfully, when Rose reached the lobby of Dax's apartment building, she could see a taxi waiting on the street as an older couple slowly walked towards the building. She flagged the taxi so it wouldn't leave without her and scrambled into the backseat. Rose was just grateful that she had gotten out of there without seeing more of Dax than she had wanted to see.

Once Rose was safe in her own apartment, she headed straight for her bedroom. She took a long bubble bath and then slipped into warm red pajamas. She climbed into bed, and the last conscious thought she had was that many blocks away, Mack was holding Ronny as the two slept. Rose fell asleep feeling lonely.

0o0o0o0

The next morning on her way down to the lobby, Rose ran into her young redheaded friend Becky. Today Becky was wearing a white blouse with a navy blue plaid skirt and navy blue knee socks – a private school uniform if Rose had ever seen one. "Hi, Rose!" Becky chirped.

Rose found herself telling Becky all about her disastrous "date" from the night before. She ranted about how gross it had been as Dax kissed her and how he had stripped for her. "And all I wanted was to play a few games! He didn't have Battleship or Monopoly. He didn't have any games at all."

"Boys are so stupid," Becky sympathized with Rose as the two stepped onto the street. "I mean, how come the ones you like never like you back?" The younger girl made a face to show her disgust.

"Oh Becky, it's even worse than you think. Sometimes you don't even realize you like a boy until you see him with someone else. Then you have to fight for what you want." Rose adjusted her purse on her shoulder and then checked that her hair was holding up. "Love is a battlefield, Becky. That's rule number one."

Becky looked up at Rose in admiration. "You're deep."

Rose nodded. "Good luck with fractions, Becky," she said as she got into the back of the Town Car.

"Have fun at work!" Becky called after her idol.

The _Poise_ staff had a meeting scheduled first thing that morning. As the others discussed ideas for articles, Rose played with the Fruit Rollup she'd brought in her purse, wrapping it around her index finger on her left hand. It was better that she wasn't paying attention to the others – it would have embarrassed her.

Richard walked into the meeting room then, looking grim. The staff fell completely silent as Richard took his seat at the head of the long table. "There's no easy way to say this," Richard began, waving the papers in his hand. "So I guess I'll just come out with it. The circulation records are in. Our numbers are dismal. I just got off the phone with corporate. They have dropped the R bomb."

"Redesign _Poise_?" echoed several staff members. They sounded outraged.

"But _Sparkle_ steals all of our ideas. They copy everything we do. Why do we have to redesign? It's total bull."

Richard didn't look happy about his staff's lack of enthusiasm for the possibility of redesign. "If we don't redesign and bring up our numbers, corporate is prepared to pull the plug on us."

Mira crossed her arms over her beautiful cranberry colored leather coat. "Richard, redesign is a death sentence," Mira declared flatly.

"No, it's not," Rose replied. She didn't like to contradict her cooler friend, but Mira clearly needed to be corrected in this case. "It's a chance to have some fun." As Rose gathered her courage, she stood up. "Let _Sparkle_ have all of our stale, secondhand ideas. It's time to pull ourselves together and show the world we still have some poise left."

Richard was very pleased with Rose's attitude. "Well, Rose, I shall be leaving it to you and Mira to come up with something brilliant. I know you two can do it." Richard signaled that the meeting was over and the staff began to file out. Rose tried to catch up with Mira but the taller girl was too far ahead. "We have two weeks!" Richard said to his retreating staff.

Arlene was waiting for Rose on the other side of the door. In her hands was a stack of pink note cards. "I have your messages, Miss Ortiz," she announced to her boss timidly.

"Let's hear 'em," Rose chirped as she began to walk to her office. She was bursting with energy, happy to be at work. She was needed here.

"Um, OK." Arlene replied in her shy voice. "Emily Pratt says 'I can't believe you scooped my story, you little bitch. I hope you die in one of your casual pantsuits.'"

The happy smiled slid off of Rose's pretty face. "Oh, wow. That's so mean."

"Miss Lewis called and told me to tell you that she hopes you choke on your own bile and that you're a conniving little snake." Arlene flipped to the next card, but Rose reached out and gently tugged them away.

"I'll read them," she told Arlene kindly. She was still working on trying to make Arlene less frightened of her. The phone on Arlene's desk rang.

"This is _Poise_ magazine. You're on Miss Ortiz's line," Arlene said in a professional tone. She frowned as the man on the other end cussed at her. "Please, sir, don't take that tone with me. I'm just Miss Ortiz's assistant." Rose felt guilty as she watched this. What had she done that was so terrible? Why did people hate her?

Rose slipped into her office and plopped into her rolling chair. She looked through the rest of her messages. She read the first one out loud. "You seem uptight. Let me come over and show you my destroyer." Rose mad a face and crumpled the paper. _'Dax is so weird.'_

She opened a colorful Lisa Frank folder with a unicorn on the cover and looked at the papers inside of it. Rose reached for a big pencil and crossed off one of the squares. Her office phone rang. "Yes?"

"Dax is on line one, Miss Ortiz," Arlene said.

"Gag me," Rose groaned, remembering the night before. "Please tell him that I'm very busy, Arlene."

"Of course, Miss Ortiz. He said he'd like to know what would be a good time for dinner."

Rose groaned again. "Tell him he can try back in ten zillion years. Ask him how that works." Rose hung up the phone before Arlene could say anything else. She turned her attention back to the folders in front of her.

She had just opened the second folder when the phone rang once more. Before Rose could even answer, Arlene was talking frantically. "I'm so sorry to bother you again, Miss Ortiz, but Ty is here to see you."

"Who?" Rose asked. This was one name she definitely didn't know. She furrowed her brow, trying to match the name with a face.

"Vella from the art department's husband," Arlene said, hoping to jog her boss' memory. Rose sure had been strange lately. Arlene sounded as though she didn't approve of whatever Rose and Ty's relationship was. Rose wondered if Ty was another reason that people seemed to hate her. There was only one way to find out.

"Oh. OK. Sure, Arlene, you can send him in," Rose replied. She hung up the phone and closed her folders just as Arlene appeared in the office, followed by a man Rose assumed to be Ty. Rose stood up and straightened the hem of her white camisole top.

"Vella forgot her lunch. I was dropping it off for her and I thought I would say hello to Rose," Ty explained to Arlene. Rose could tell Arlene didn't believe this, but she shut the door to Rose's office and left them alone.

Rose was smiling at the blond man's thoughtfulness. "You brought your wife her lunch; that's so sweet," she gushed as Ty crossed the two steps to her, grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her full on the lips.

Rose pulled away as fast as she could. "What are you doing? You're married, and to a girl I work with," Rose hissed angrily.

"When has that ever stopped us?" Ty asked with an evil glint in his strange silver eyes. He wouldn't have been bad looking if Rose hadn't known what he did behind his wife's back – it made him ugly to her. Poor Vella. "Come on Rosie, lie down and take a memo," Ty cooed.

Rose did what her instinct told her to. She pumped up her left knee swiftly, right into Ty's manhood. On the other side of the glass, Arlene clapped. But then Rose came marching out of her office and Arlene looked back at her computer screen, resisting the urge to laugh.

The petite woman strode down the hallway to where Mira's office was located, but she stopped dead in her tracks outside of the art department when she heard Mira's voice. "…And I don't want Rose to find out," Mira was saying quietly.

"What is up with her, anyway?" came the voice of Mira's companion. It sounded like Vella. "Rose just seems so lost lately."

"I don't know. I'm just getting so sick of her act. She thinks she's thirteen. I mean, last night when we went out, she started hitting on some little kid. It was so disgusting. And she stole Charlotte's idea and then fired her. I say we go forward with our own presentation and let her fall on her ass."

Rose's world came crashing down.


	8. Her Mistakes

**13 Going on 30**

Rose slowly turned away from the art department door and went back to her own office. Tears were stinging at the back of her eyes. All this time she had thought she and Mira were best girlfriends. The signs were there: checking out each other's hairstyles and clothes, hanging out together, gossiping about boys. But Mira thought that Rose was just an annoyance, a sidekick that she had gotten sick of.

Rose put on her red coat and picked up the red purse she was carrying today. She had just finished checking that all of her belongings were inside when she spotted the stack of messages she hadn't finished reading. At the bottom of the pile was a message from her mother. Rose sank into her chair. All she knew about her relationship with her parents was that it wasn't too good.

"_Hi sweetheart," _the message read, _"Daddy and I will be home from our cruise to Barbados on Saturday. I'd like to talk. I feel like we don't chat enough. I love you, Rose."_

The tears that had been threatening to fall suddenly did, fast and furious. She began to shake with sobs. Rose didn't talk to her mom – how terrible was she? She promised herself as she sat there crying that she would call her mother on Saturday and tell her everything. And maybe next weekend, Rose would invite her parents to come out for a visit. Or maybe she could go there. It just had to be different now.

Arlene could tell how upset her boss was, even through the frosted glass wall that enclosed Rose's office. And Rose had been so nice to her lately – she was a completely different person now. The secretary picked up a box of tissue and let herself into Rose's office. "Here," she told the younger girl. "I'll tell Richard that you aren't feeling well and that you went home. There's nothing big going on today. They'll get by."

"Thanks, Arlene," Rose sniffed, wiping her eyes. "That's so thoughtful of you. Whatever I did to you before, however mean I was to you, I didn't mean it. You're very good at your job and I appreciate you."

Arlene didn't quite know what to say. "Thank you, Miss Ortiz. I try my best."

"I know you do." Rose managed a small, watery smile. She finished wiping her tears away and then reapplied her mascara. She wouldn't allow her colleagues to see her weakness.

Rose let herself into one of the elevators and made her way down to the lobby alone. The perky receptionist from her first morning at _Poise_ looked at her sympathetically. "Not feeling well, Miss Ortiz?" she asked. "I could call a Town Car to take you back to your apartment, if you'd like."

"No, thank you," Rose answered miserably. "It was so kind of you to ask, though. Thanks. I'll just walk."

The petite woman dragged herself home, feeling so alone and helpless. But she had clearly brought this upon herself. It had been her decision to stop talking to her mom and dad. It had been her choice to sleep with Ty behind Vella and Dax's backs. It had been her mistake to not try to explain to Mira that she last thing she remembered was being thirteen. She'd told Mack that first day and even if he hadn't believed her crazy story, he'd helped her. Maybe if Mira had understood, she wouldn't have thought Rose was such a complete pain.

About a half hour later, Rose arrived back at her apartment. She let herself in and slowly moved through each of the rooms. She had a really beautiful home, with expensive woodwork and art and furniture. But there was no touch of her personality in the décor. There were no photographs of her family or "friends" as she had thought Mira was. There were no flyers or reminders magnetized to her refrigerator. Her life was neat and organized and cold.

Rose got out of her work clothes and put on the same red flannel pajamas she had worn the night before. Red had always been…comforting, somehow. Maybe it was because Mack had always loved red. Mack had always known how to make her feel better. He'd always known the right things to say every time she felt bad. And Rose didn't even deserve to be his friend.

She lounged around on her couch for awhile, feeling lonely and cold. She lay curled in a ball, her inky black hair spread out on a throw pillow, going through all of her mistakes one by one. It hurt to think about all of her faults, but Rose wouldn't allow her mind to think of anything happy. She was too terrible to think of better times.

After awhile, Rose managed to fall asleep. The petite woman tossed and turned in her sleep restlessly. A few hours later she woke with a start and saw that it was just after five o'clock in the evening. Rose looked around her apartment, trying to decide what to do. Absentmindedly, she traced a pattern on the couch with her finger. Red. Mack.

With a faint smile, Rose scurried back into her room and got dressed again. She would pay Mack a visit. He would help her put things in perspective again. He always did. He was good with stuff like that. Mack would have something kind to say to her.

Rose strode down many streets until she reached Mack's apartment building. She rang the bell and got a reply similar to the first one she'd gotten a week ago. "I only want my dinner. Come back some other time." Rose rolled her eyes and rang the bell twice more. The gate buzzed and Rose practically ran up the stairs to his front door.

"You're not Italian," Mack said, but the look on his face told Rose that he was glad to see her regardless. She tried to smile.

"Wanna take a walk?"

"OK."

The village was fairly quiet as the pair of old friends walked through it. They passed little sidewalk cafés and bicycle messengers, walking along in complete silence. Rose needed conversation after a few quiet blocks. "I can't believe you're getting married, Mack," she offered, nudging his arm. She noticed that Mack closed his eyes for a moment before replying.

"Two weeks," Mack responded. "Ronny and I are very excited," he added. The truth was that ever since Rose had turned up in his life again, Mack was having doubts about his upcoming nuptials. But Rose didn't need to know that. She _couldn't_ know that. She didn't feel anything for him.

"Is Ronny your soul mate?" Rose asked then, not entirely sure that she wanted to hear Mack's answer.

"My soul mate?" Mack echoed, swinging his arms slightly as they continued to walk along. "I don't know. I'm not even sure if I believe in things like soul mates. I think it's a little naïve, to tell the truth."

"But you get goose bumps when you're around her, or butterflies…" Rose tickled her tummy for emphasis. Mack laughed at her silliness and then shook his head slowly. As he answered, Rose noticed that he was careful not to make eye contact.

"I haven't felt that way about a girl since high school, thank God. It didn't work out, and I can honestly say I haven't gotten butterflies or goose bumps around a girl since then."

Rose wondered why he was going to marry Ronny if he didn't get excited when she was near. Then she decided it was none of her business. And still, something was bothering her. She had to ask. "Mackie…" Rose began, her arms folded over her chest, "What…what happened to us? I mean…why didn't we ever stay friends? We were so close."

The shorter woman had stopped in her tracks, and so had Mack. He didn't want to say anything to hurt her, and he fibbed, shrugging. "I don't know, Rose. I forget." Mack's gaze fell to the ground as they continued on their way.

"Really, Mack, what happened? I want to know."

Mack gave a little laugh. "I don't know, but I pretty much chalk it up to your thirteenth birthday. Mira told me you were waiting in the closet, playing that game…was it Spin the Rapist?"

"Seven Minutes in Heaven," Rose corrected, a bit eagerly. "The last thing that I remember was you telling me everybody had left." She looked back at him, wanting to know the rest of the story.

"It happened so long ago, Rose. It doesn't matter."

"Mack, it matters to me."

"You stomped out of the closet and then I tried to play the song I wrote for you. The next thing I knew was that you had thrown the doll house I spent three weeks making, with impressive force, I might add. You stopped talking to me. You stopped being my friend."

Rose hung her head in shame. "Oh, Mack. I'm so, so sorry. I don't know why I would be so mean."

"Forget it," Mack said gently. He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly.

"Don't be so nice to me, Mack. I don't deserve it. Do you know what kind of person I am now? I don't have any real friends, I don't talk to my mom and dad, and I cheated on my boyfriend with a married guy… I'm not a nice person, Mack. And you know what? I'm not thirteen anymore."

She walked away swiftly, and Mack went running after her. "Rose!" he called. Rose wasn't hard to catch, and when he caught her, he hugged her tightly for a long time. "I'm your friend, Rose. I'm your friend. It's all going to be OK."

And as Rose stood there in the comfort of his embrace, feeling his warmth, she almost believed him.

0o0o0o0

Early the next morning, Saturday, Rose had a suitcase packed and ready to go. She had found her copy of the key to her parents' house the night before, and she had known what she had to do the second she laid eyes on it. She bought a ticket for the train that would take her out to the suburbs and chose a seat.

As the train zoomed along on its path, Rose reflected. She'd made a lot of mistakes, and making things right with her mother and father would be the easiest one to fix. She tried to think of some way to apologize to them.

A trio of young girls got on, choosing seats close to Rose. They were giggling, and one of them had a copy of _Sparkle_ rolled up under her arm. _'So typical,' _Rose thought. She wondered if she and Mira had ever gone on some kind of trip together. Then Rose realized it didn't matter.

The train station was only a few blocks away from Rose's childhood home. She walked the two blocks slowly, passing landmarks she'd grown up knowing. Rose wondered if the people in the houses were the same.

When she reached her home, Rose stood on the front lawn for what seemed like hours. It was funny how some things never changed. The house was still pale gray, and her mother's garden was still in bloom. Rose doubted that the _flowers_ had changed over the years. So if some things never changed, why did people have to? She'd cheated on her boyfriend, ignored her parents, trusted Mira, broken Mack's heart… she was so different.

Rose moved through the house quietly, finding no evidence that anything had changed on the inside as well as the outside. But when she reached her old bedroom, she was in for a surprise.

Her bed was gone; in its place a treadmill that Rose guessed didn't get much use, seeing as how there were boxes stacked on top of it. Her old desk was still in the room, but now there was a computer on it, as well as a new lamp and a little container of office supplies. Her old bulletin board now had reminders about country club fundraisers tacked on it, rather than pictures of rock stars.

The doll house was nowhere to be found. Rose frowned, racking her brain for other places her present from Mack may have been. Maybe…

Sometime between then and now, her parents had redesigned the basement rec room. Now it was carpeted in a pale lilac color, rather than with throw rugs. A piano stood in one corner. There was a floral patterned couch rather than the big red arm chair she remembered.

Frowning, Rose slowly walked towards the closet and pulled the door open. Her growth chart was still taped to the back of the door, and her board games were still stacked on the shelves.

The Rose Dream House wasn't here, either. Rose felt tears in her eyes again as she pulled the closet door shut. Rose folded herself onto the ground against the back wall. Maybe there was some remnant of wishing dust in here after all. She rocked back and forth, hitting the wall and making quite a noise.

So much noise, in fact, that her parents, who had just arrived, could hear it all the way upstairs.

Fearing burglars, Tim Ortiz grabbed an umbrella from the hall closet and started down to the basement. Isabel was one step behind her husband, ready to call the police if necessary. The couple approached the closet and Tim threw open the door to see his only daughter sitting on the floor. "What in the world?"

Rose looked up, her expression that of a deer caught in the headlights. "Daddy?" she asked, scrambling to her feet and running to her father's open arms. "Daddy, I missed you so much."

"Oh sweetheart," Isabel said softly, rubbing Rose's arm lightly, "Are you alright, Rose? Is everything OK?" Isabel's tone of motherly concern made Rose feel even guiltier, and she managed to nod that she was alright. She hugged her father tightly.

The three had a long talk after that, with Rose telling her parents over and over again how sorry she was for being so self-absorbed. "I'm a terrible daughter, and I'm so sorry. I promise I'll find some way to make it up to you. I promise."

And then Rose freshened her make-up and put on a brave smile. "Let's go out to dinner. My treat."

Later, as Isabel made up a bed for Rose on the couch, the youngest Ortiz felt slightly better about her past actions. She had her mom and dad back now, and she would never take them for granted again.

As Rose lay on the couch, listening to the storm, she decided to do something she hadn't done since she was eight years old.

She crept into her parents' bedroom and peeled back the covers. Rose slipped in beside her mother, who woke at the movement and gave her daughter a sleepy smile. Rose slept very well – she felt safe now.

The next morning, Isabel thoughtfully prepared her daughter's favorite breakfast: smiley face pancakes. Rose smiled at her mother, touched that she had even remembered this old favorite. Rose scooped up one of the chocolate chips that served as an eye and ate it, feeling like a little girl again. She didn't mind this.

Rose took a sip of milk as her mother sat down at the table with her. "Mom, do you ever wish you could go back?" Rose asked.

Isabel grinned at her daughter and spooned sugar into her coffee cup. "Well, I would give back some of these wrinkles if I could."

Rose smiled at her mother's joke and pressed on. "If you had one do-over, what would it be?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? You never made a big mistake, one that could change your whole life?" Mack flashed through Rose's mind.

"Honey, I don't regret making the mistakes I've made. If I hadn't made them, I wouldn't have learned how to make things right."

Rose nodded and took another bite of her breakfast. "I'm sorry I missed last Christmas."

Her mother smiled sadly and got up. She kissed the top of Rose's head and left the room, leaving Rose very alone.


	9. Picture Perfect

**13 Going on 30**

Rose spent the rest of Sunday with her parents. The Ortizs' spent an afternoon remembering vacations, birthdays and holidays, back when Rose had still been a more family oriented woman. Sometimes Isabel would lean over to Rose and brush hair out of her daughter's eyes. Rose felt a fresh prick of guilt when her mother did this to her.

Her parents insisted on driving Rose the two blocks to the train station. She hugged her father and then her mother, who smiled wistfully at her daughter. "Take care of yourself, Rose. I love you, honey. Call me when you get in so I know you're safe." Isabel squeezed her daughter once more. "Oh, and say hello to Mack for me."

"How did you know I'm talking to Mack again?"

"I saw Andrew yesterday when we came in. He mentioned you met Mack and his fiancée." Isabel's face fell slightly. "You know, I always kind of hoped you would marry Mack. You were so close as kids, and he was always such a sweet boy."

"Mom, Mack is my best friend," Rose said quietly. "And my train is leaving in five seconds. I have to go. I love you." She flashed a huge smile at them, picked up her suitcase and purse and boarded the train.

Rose flipped through an old copy of _Poise_ as the train headed back to the bustling city of San Angeles. She made careful notes in her mind, already forming a plan. Taking a pad of Post-its from her purse, she stuck one to the cover and wrote "Don't know these people" on it with a pink pen.

Rose let a huge smile cross her face as she realized exactly what could save the magazine – and she knew just the person to help her.

When she reached her apartment building, Rose didn't bother to wait for an elevator. She ran up the seven flights of stairs to her apartment and snatched her keys from her purse. Rose flung open the door and marched into the living room, heading right for the bookshelves. She smiled at the objects in her hands as she crossed into her kitchen and sat at her counter.

Rose examined the photos in the yearbook carefully, sticking more Post-its on the ones that gave credit to Mack. She liked his style – he seemed to capture his subjects as they really were. Rose felt a surge of pride at Mack's skill with a camera and hoped he would take on the project.

The next day, Rose dressed in a lavender tank top and black jeans and strode into the _Poise _office. She refused to remember what had happened the previous Friday. She had brought her yearbooks to work with her, and after telling Arlene she wouldn't take any calls unless they were from her parents or Mack, she locked herself in to work.

After hours of writing notes to herself and cutting photos and arranging them to her liking, Rose was ready to call it a day. Her neck was sore and she couldn't wait to get into a hot bath. The petite woman walked through the empty office, tired but happy with the work she had done.

She barely caught an elevator before the doors shut and she was ready to smile warmly at the other occupant until she saw who it was. Tall, stylish, impeccably groomed…it was none other than Mira Trix. _'Stay calm,'_ Rose reminded herself, _'Mira doesn't know that you know what she really thinks of you.'_ Rose managed to smile as Mira greeted her.

"Hey Rose."

"Hi." Rose readjusted her purse strap and then straightened the hem of her jacket. She tried not to look at her ex-friend, no sure how long she could be civil.

"I was going to stop by your office," Mira began, trying to make eye contact with the shorter woman. Mira wondered why Rose was being so quiet. It wasn't like her to be silent when they were together. "I tried to call you a bunch of times," Mira added.

"Really? Arlene left my messages for me before she went home. There weren't any from you," Rose replied in a falsely sweet tone. "Interesting."

Mira didn't like the way Rose was talking to her. "I was in a hurry," she defended herself. She softened then, sending Rose a smile. Rose smiled back at her, but Mira could have sworn Rose's smile was…fake. What was going on here?

Rose still hadn't said anything. Mira was determined to get her sidekick to talk. "Listen, Rose… sweetie I know we're best friends, so I hope you don't mind that I've been working on my own project for the redesign thing. It's not personal."

"Oh, of course it's not personal," Rose replied, "And I don't mind, Mira, because I've been working on my own project as well." A little bell sounded in the elevator to signal the arrival at the lobby. Rose pranced out into the hall and out of the building, Mira's eyes narrowed at her the whole time.

0o0o0o0

Rose spent the next few days arranging for the first photo shoot. When she had handled all of the details except for the photographer, she called Mack. He wasn't at home, and Rose felt her heart sink a little bit. She left a message for him, asking him to meet her at noon tomorrow, Thursday.

As Rose headed home, her cell phone rang. She shook her head; she hated talking on this thing. But as she examined the phone, she saw that Mack was calling. She smiled. "Hello?"

"Hi, Rose. I was just walking in when you finished your message. What's up?" Rose noticed that Mack sounded very happy. _'He's getting married,' _Rose reminded herself._ 'He's getting married.'_

"I want it to be a surprise," Rose answered. "Can you come on Thursday?" Her tone was just as happy as Mack's.

"Sure."

"Great. Oh, and bring your camera," Rose added.

"Why?"

"Please trust me, Mack. It'll be a nice surprise for you. I'll meet you at the west entrance to the Central San Angeles Park. See you then!"

And Rose had quite a spring in her step as she continued on her way home.

0o0o0o0

She woke early on Thursday and took much longer in the shower than she normally did. When she was certain she had gotten every inch of her body, Rose got out of the shower and slipped into her favorite robe. Rose twisted her wet hair up into the towel she had used and padded barefoot into the closet.

The petite woman decided on a pink blouse and a knee length black skirt. Then she took a white jacket from its hanger and laid it on her bed. When Rose had finished getting dressed, she sat down at her vanity to do her hair and make-up.

Rose pulled her hair halfway up and started to put on make-up when she took a good look at herself. Then with a faint smile, she snapped her compact shut and left it on the bathroom sink.

She took a quick peek inside her jewelry box and found a necklace with a rose as its pendant. That would do nicely, Rose decided.

Rose took the time to make herself some breakfast, and as she looked around the apartment, Rose felt proud of herself. She had a nice life. Even the apartment, which had seemed so cold to her the week before, had some personal touches now: magazines on the coffee table, a coat slung over the back of a chair instead of neatly hung up, actual food in the refrigerator. Life was looking up.

A few hours later, Rose was waiting for Mack on a park bench, excited about what was about to happen. "Rose!" he called suddenly, and she looked up, smiling. As Mack came closer, Rose threw her arms around him. This time, he returned her embrace. "So why did you want be to bring my camera?"

Rose gestured behind her. "There's a big photo shoot going on here in the park…and they need the best photographer in San Angeles."

Mack's bright blue eyes widened as he realized what Rose meant. "Rose…"

"I'm hiring you," she gushed. "Well, _Poise_ is. For the rest of the week. I know you're busy, but I want you to do this job. You're the only one who can do this the way I want it done." Rose reached into her purse and produced an envelope. She handed this to Mack.

He opened it slowly, and when he saw how much the check was for, his jaw dropped. "Whoa, Rose…this is…"

"It's only the first half," Rose told him hurriedly, worrying that it wasn't enough. "You'll get the rest when the shoots are finished."

"I could really use this money, Rose, but you don't need to do me any favors. I don't like sponging off of people, especially my friends and family. Believe me, my dad has offered…"

Rose frowned. "You're not getting a favor. Really, I'm asking you to do me a favor. I love your style, Mack. I looked through those old yearbooks, just for a sample, and it blew me away." She sent him a hopeful smile. "Please, Mackie?"

Mack looked back at the hustle and bustle of the crowd setting up for the shoot. He watched for a minute before turning to Rose once more. "You know, Rose, I've seen your magazine. My stuff isn't your style."

Rose winked. "Exactly."

"So why do you want me?" Mack asked.

"We're redesigning and this is my vision for the new look. It won't work without you."

Mack smiled. "OK. Let's get to work."

Rose beamed back at him and the two friends started across the lawn towards the shoot. Rose explained her concept to him as they walked.

Mack went right into photographer mode, adjusting people to his liking, as well as props. "The sun is great right where we are, so let's get this done while we've got it." He looked around for the dog they were using in the shoot and spotted the pudgy animal sleeping in the shade of a tree. "Sorry pal," Mack murmured as he scooped the pooch into his arms. "Who gets Francis?"

One of the male models, dressed like a football player, raised his hand. Mack deposited the dog in the boy's lap and surveyed his scene one last time. "Everyone ready?" Mack asked as he moved behind his tripod to take the picture. "OK, everyone, lots of energy! You're graduating and you're on to bigger and better things!" Rose scurried past him and Mack forced himself not to stare.

The giant fans were switched on then, and two members of the crew took handfuls of leaves and let the fans blow them away. Rose laughed. Mack, stationed at his camera, laughed too. God, she was beautiful.

At the end of the first shoot, Mack was confident that he'd gotten some good shots. "So what next, boss?" he asked Rose when she came to stand by him. "What lovely part of high school are we capturing next?" He grinned.

"First we're going out for an early dinner, and _Poise _is picking up the tab. Then, as soon as it's dark enough, we're going up to the old Oliver building and setting up for the winter formal."

"Cool. Let me pack up my stuff and we'll go." He folded up the tripod and placed it in his bag. "All done," Mack announced a moment later.

What he hadn't realized was that when Rose said "we're going out," was that she had meant the entire crew. Mack felt a little disappointed as he and the rest of the people involved in the shoots walked a few blocks over to a steakhouse. He'd kind of imagined being alone with Rose.

His luck picked up some when the restaurant's biggest table wouldn't seat the whole crew. He ended up with Rose at a cozy table for two. Rose smiled apologetically. "Sorry you're stuck with boring old me," she said, but she wasn't sorry at all.

"Never boring, Rose," Mack replied. "Never."

They were nearly finished with dinner when they were interrupted by Mack's cell phone ringing shrilly. "I have to take this," he told Rose as he stood up. "Hi Ronny," Mack said as he took a few steps. "I'm working and the job's going to be a few more hours. I'll call you later, OK? I love you too."

When Mack sat down again, he noticed that Rose looked kind of upset. "You didn't tell Ronny you were with me," Rose said quietly. "Why?"

"Oh, that…she doesn't understand us. She's a little jealous. Whatever it is that you and I are, Ronny doesn't understand it. She doesn't get how we could not talk for years and then start being friends again."

"You still lied," Rose pointed out. "That makes me feel like the other woman or something."

"We both know it's not like that, Rose. And if I told Ronny that I was with you right now, it would just upset her for no good reason. We're friends, Rose. We're allowed to go out to dinner."

Rose opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a member of the crew. "It's dark enough now, Miss Ortiz. Can we go set up for the next shoot?"

Rose nodded. "Let's go." After she paid the bill, Rose walked out of the restaurant quickly, careful to stay far from Mack. She couldn't destroy his happiness with Ronny. He deserved happiness.

With the many members of the crew hard at work, it didn't take long to set up. Soon the rooftop was adorned with white lights and silver snowflakes, and the models looked beautiful in their long dresses and tuxes.

Mack was watching his subjects carefully as they twirled on the dance floor. When he came across a pair of models who weren't quite believable as teenagers in love, he motioned for the couple to stop. He went over to Rose and took her hand in his. He held her close as they danced to the slow tune in the background, and Rose felt her heart skip several beats.

The next morning at the shoot, Mack spotted a bouquet of white roses. He took one out of the bunch and looked for Rose. Mack found her helping a little girl braid her hair. When the girl's hair was finished, he handed the rose to his old friend, who smiled and then hugged him.

Mack finished arranging the class of 2004 on the stone steps and signaled for the many colored balloons to be dropped. He took the picture, and with all the energy and happiness the class was showing, he knew that it had been a good shot. He wouldn't need to do another one.

0o0o0o0

Rose got a call on Saturday afternoon. "The pictures are done," she said by way of greeting. He'd promised to call when they were ready, and now they could work on the layout for her presentation on Monday. "Oh, thanks Mack. I know they're beautiful. Where do you want to work?"

"I have a little studio that I rent a few blocks away from my place. Meet me in front of your building in ten minutes and we'll go over together."

"Sure. Bye."

Rose threw on a jacket and a pair of shoes and raced down to meet her friend. He arrived a few minutes later. "Hi," Rose greeted.

"Hey. I can't wait to show you how they came out."

The first thing the pair of old friends did was mount the tiny pictures on black matte board. "They're gorgeous," Rose said as she began to arrange the photos on the white poster board.

Mack leaned on the table, balanced on his elbows. He watched her for a moment before looking at his watch. "It's getting late. It's almost seven."

"We've been here four hours?"

"Time flies," Mack said.

But something else had crossed Rose's mind, and she knew if she mentioned it now that Mack wouldn't leave her. "You know what I wish I had right now? Razzles."

"Razzles?" Mack echoed. What a random thing to want. "I haven't had Razzles in fifteen years."

"They're both a candy and a gum," Rose reminded him. "Wanna see if we can find some?"

"There's a corner store a block away."

And suddenly he had grabbed her hand and pulled her away. Rose laughed.

Ten minutes later, they came out of the store. "I can't believe they had them," Rose said. She opened the package and tipped a few into Mack's cupped hands.

They walked along, and as they neared the harbor, Mack laughed. "What's so funny?" Rose asked.

"Life, timing, being here with you… eating Razzles." He grinned. "I had a great time working with you."

"Me too." A few more steps, and then Rose stopped. "Hey Mackie? Tell me something." He had stopped too, and he turned around to face her. "What color is my tongue?" Rose opened her mouth.

"What?"

"What color is my tongue?"

"Red."

"Tongue red or Razzle red?"

"Razzle red."

"Now show me yours."

"I'm not showing you my tongue."

"I showed you mine."

"I didn't ask to see yours."

"Mackie, I need to see your tongue."

Mack shook his head and then did as she'd asked. "It's Razzle red," she announced. "Wanna know a secret?"

"Yeah."

"You're the sweetest guy I've ever known."

Mack didn't know what to say to this, and he looked around. He noticed a swingset nearby. "I bet I could beat you off the jump."

"You're on." Rose raced over to the swings, and for a split second she thought they looked out of place near the harbor. She climbed onto one and Mack took the other, and as they built up speed he spoke.

"Whoever jumps furthest the other owes a drink."

"And dinner, Friday night, so we can celebrate our design being chosen."

"One…two…three…!"

They jumped off and their paths collided. The two landed in the sand, and Rose rolled over to him, groaning. "I'm getting old," Mack said.

"No you're not, because then I would be too."

Mack rolled over and then Rose toppled off of him. Mack was leaning over her, trying to get up, when Rose grabbed his arm. "You have arm hair."

"Never got that reaction before." Her hands were soft.

Their gazes locked for a moment, and then Mack leaned down and kissed her.


	10. Checkmate

**13 Going on 30**

Rose floated home on a cloud. She and Mack had kissed, and nothing had ever felt more right. When he had pulled away, he had smiled down at her and helped her up. Mack had hugged her for a long time and then walked her home. Outside of the building, Mack kissed her again. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." She looked at him hopefully. "Mack, I'm really glad you did the project with me, and I'm glad we were finally able to be honest. I wasted so much time, Mack. I'm sorry I did."

"I'll see you later, Rose," Mack said quickly as he turned away. He walked away swiftly, knowing that he had to keep what had just happened with Rose a secret.

As Rose went into her building, her heart was still beating fast. He was a really good kisser, and now she could be happy again. Rose remembered being kissed by two guys: Dax and Ty. Neither meant anything to her. But Mack did. Mack was everything.

Near her apartment door, she spied a gang of giggling girls, Becky among them. "Hi, Becky," Rose greeted her young neighbor. "Having a sleep over?"

"Yeah," Becky said, "Actually, Rose, we were wondering…could you give us makeovers? We're so bored, and since you're so glamorous, maybe you could give us some tips?" The redheaded girl looked up at Rose hopefully. Rose knew what it was like to idol someone. She nodded.

Rose opened the front door and the younger girls raced inside. Rose smiled as she followed them into her bedroom. "Wow," one of them breathed. "It's beautiful. I bet this room is nicer than my whole apartment. Can I touch things? If I break it, do I have to buy it?"

Becky grinned. "You're so overdramatic, Kim."

"I don't think there's anything to break, anyway. Let's go raid the closet," Rose suggested. The girls shrieked in delight. Rose felt so popular. As they ran into the closet, she changed into pajamas.

When the girls had finished playing dress up with Rose's clothes, they filed out into Rose's bedroom again. "I bet you have a boyfriend," one of the girls spoke up. "Is he really cute?"

"Dana!" Becky cried. "You don't have to be so blunt. If Rose wants to tell us about her love life, she will."

"It's OK, Dana. I don't officially have a boyfriend, but I kind of do. I just got back from seeing him. He kissed me goodnight." Rose could feel herself smiling. She loved this girl talk.

"What's his name?" Kim asked.

"His name is Mack, and I've known him since we were both in diapers. We grew up together. He's my best friend."

"Tell us more," spoke up the girl named Cassie. "Please?"

"It was just amazing," Rose said dreamily. "It was like I wasn't even there. I was just watching us down below while we were kissing."

"That's so romantic," Becky gushed. A curly haired blond named Sydney nodded her agreement.

Rose smiled, rolling up the sleeves of her pajama top. "Look, goose bumps," she said, holding out her arm.

"Wow," the six other girls breathed.

"Do you love him?" Jen asked.

"Duh," Kim said.

"When are you going to see him again?" Dana questioned in her soft voice.

Rose shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. It's all so complicated. We can't really be together. He's engaged." She let out a big sigh. "It's a grown up thing."

"At least you have someone to dream about," Jen offered.

"Guys don't want to jump your bones when you're a metal mouth," Cassie spoke up.

Rose had been fiddling with her stuffed elephant's trunk absentmindedly. But at Cassie's words, Rose snapped back to attention. "What kind of attitude is that? We are young, and we are beautiful. Boys are dumb, girls. Heartache to heartache we stand. Love is a battlefield, and there are a lot of casualties."

"Wow," the girls sighed again. "You're deep."

Rose turned the TV to a channel that played music from the '80's. Coincidentally, the song she had just been quoting came on, and she laughed. Rose began to dance around her bedroom, and soon the younger girls joined her, delighted to be part of Rose's games.

When Becky announced that they should start heading back to her apartment, Rose pranced into the closet and pulled out six purses similar to the one Becky had admired. "Remember me fondly, girls. And remember, love is a battlefield."

With her young friends gone, Rose felt strangely lonely. Now she would have to think about Mack and what had happened just two hours before. Rose felt guilty as she realized exactly what she had done. She had kissed Mack, her best friend, and nothing could ever come of it. He was engaged to Ronny, not to her. She'd been out of his life for too long to have a real claim on him. She had to let him go.

0o0o0o0

At work on Monday, Rose brought along the pictures Mack had taken so she could finish the final arrangement. Her presentation was in two hours, and Rose was very nervous. _'Breathe,'_ the petite woman reminded herself. _'You have to breathe. You can do this, Rose. You can do it.'_

Rose grinned and picked up the first picture Mack had taken. "Isn't Francis cute?" she asked Arlene, who looked confused. "The dog," Rose clarified.

Arlene nodded as Rose spoke again. "So what do you think, Arlene? Isn't Mack so talented?"

"I think that I'm actually going to start reading _Poise_...for the first time ever," Arlene replied. The older woman smiled at Rose. "I'll leave you to your work, Rose." It was the first time she'd called Rose by her first name.

Maybe Rose wasn't as bad a person as she'd thought.

0o0o0o0

Mack sat at his desk in his apartment, talking to the owner of a formal outfitting store. "I have a place I rent in the village. I can get it by Friday." The owner began to babble, and _Friday_ crossed Mack's mind. Rose…he was going to meet her for dinner on Friday. While the owner jabbered on, Mack took out a calendar and penciled in her name on the square. He ignored the fact that his wedding was taking place on Sunday.

There was silence on the phone. It must be his turn to talk. "I'll see you then. Bye."

He had just hung up the phone when a pair of hands suddenly covered his eyes. "Hey," he said, reaching up to touch his companion. Mack peeled the other pair of hands off of his face and turned in his chair to see his fiancée. "Hi…Ronny."

"What, were you expecting someone else?" Ronny teased. She did not notice that Mack suddenly looked guilty. She was too busy being happy that she was finally getting to spend some time with Mack. "I want to take you to lunch. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah," Mack answered as he stood up. Ronny pressed herself closer to him, grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him. But for Mack, it meant nothing. She was just a girl.

Ronny picked a sushi restaurant for lunch. She always forgot that Mack hated sushi. He tried to ignore it. She made small talk until their orders arrived, and Mack couldn't help but feel this was just like a blind date. After Ronny took her first bite, she pounced. "We need to figure out what we're doing here, Mack. You can take pictures of vitamin bottles anywhere. I don't want us to be a commuter couple during our first year of marriage."

"What?"

"Our first year of marriage. Aw, you're nervous, aren't you? It's OK, Mack. I am too." Ronny picked a California roll off of his plate. "So, Florida?"

"Florida," Mack agreed weakly.

0o0o0o0

Rose strode out of her office. She was about to address Arlene when Richard appeared at Arlene's cubicle looking very angry. "Excuse my French, Rose, but my balls are in an iron vise. Corporate is squeezing like a dominatrix on steroids and Mira just told me she is doing her own presentation. Would you please tell me what's going on here?"

"What's going on is that you'll have more choices."

"With all due respect to Mira, I'm more interested in seeing what you've been up to."

"Thank you," Rose began, smiling. Richard quickly interrupted his employee.

"That's not a compliment. I'm trying to pressure you."

"Can you hang in there for an hour?"

"Rose-"

The phone rang. Arlene picked it up. "_Poise_ magazine, Miss Ortiz's line." The secretary listened for a moment. "Right away." She looked up at Rose. "The prints are done."

"Goodie." Rose ran into her office, and then Richard turned to Arlene.

"Why does nobody listen to a word I say anymore?" he asked. Arlene shrugged.

"Arlene, aren't you coming?" Rose asked. Arlene's face lit up and she followed Rose.

"Oh, _she's_ invited to go along. Who am I? I'm just the editor-in-bloody-chief."

The smiling receptionist had a taxi waiting when Rose and Arlene arrived in the lobby. Rose and Arlene scrambled into it. "1221 West Powers!" Rose told the cabbie.

As Rose and her secretary went off to get the photographs, Mira was just starting her presentation. The lights in the conference room were off, and all eyes were on Mira's slide show. "The new _Poise_ will explore the final frontier. It will do heroin chic one better. It will OD. It will _kill_." The image flickered in bright colors, with words like "shocking" and "chic" jumping out at the viewer.

Mira walked in front of the projector. "_Poise_ will be serious – deadly serious. It will be fashion suicide." Mira turned her brown eyes on Richard. "What do you think?"

"I don't like it," he said simply. "You may go."

Mira stormed out of the room and into the hallway, knocking over boxes and pictures as she went. When she reached Rose's office, she saw that it was empty. She decided to wait for the other woman to come back. Mira opened a desk drawer and was shocked to see an envelope marked _Sparkle_ in it.

0o0o0o0

Rose stood at the head of the conference table, feeling very nervous. She took a deep breath and began to speak. "I know this is different from anything we've ever done before. I know you might hate it and think that I'm completely crazy. But I won't care. I don't mean it disrespectfully," Rose added, looking at her boss. "But I've realized something."

Taking another deep breath, Rose spun around to look at her first three posters. "Who are these people? I don't recognize any of them. Do you guys?" Rose took down the boards with the unfamiliar models plastered on them to reveal the boards with Mack's pictures on them. I want to see my best friend's big sister," she said, pointing to a girl in a cheerleader uniform. "Or the girls on the soccer team. My next door neighbor. Real woman who are smart…and beautiful. They're happy to be who they are. I think we can put life back into the magazine, and fun. We all need to feel again, or we'll lose sight of what really matters."

Rose turned to face the rest of the _Poise_ staff, waiting for their reaction. To her surprise, they burst into applause, and Rose felt her heart soar. "You guys like it? Really?"

"We'll present it to corporate first thing in the morning," Richard announced as he stood to join Rose. He gave her a big hug and then turned to look more closely at the photographs. "Who is this photographer? He's brilliant. We'll pay top dollar to sign him."

"His name is Mack Hartford," Rose said, "He's an old friend of mine."

"Arthur or Martha?"

"No, Mack," Rose corrected. "_Mack_."

"I mean…is he into boys?"

"Are you?"

Richard burst out laughing.

0o0o0o0

Rose walked out of the _Poise_ office feeling on top of the world. She had to go home and tell Mack the good news. Now, since he'd be working for such a prominent (or soon to become prominent once more) magazine, he wouldn't go to Florida. He _couldn't_ go to Florida.

Rose walked off in the direction of her apartment, not knowing that Mack was just a block behind her.

He knew he shouldn't be here, especially now that Ronny was in town, but after the disastrous lunch, she'd gone off to do some last minute shopping before the wedding. So Mack decided to pop in on Rose, because who knew when he would see her again.

Mack was told that Rose's office was on the top floor. No one mentioned that Rose had left not five minutes before.

0o0o0o0

Mira crept back into Rose's empty office. She'd had to leave when the photos for Rose's presentation were brought in so she wouldn't be discovered, but now the coast was clear. Mira's brown eyes studied the pictures, trying to decide what was so special about them. The whole office was buzzing about Rose's idea, but Mira couldn't understand why. They looked like something straight out of a high school yearbook. _Photos by: Mack Hartford. _No wonder.

The brunette sat down at Rose's desk once more and went right for the drawer where she'd found the _Sparkle_ envelope. She still couldn't believe what she'd uncovered not an hour ago. Mira had never known Rose had such a deceitful side to her in the first place. Well, two could play Rose's little games.

Mira picked up the phone and dialed the number for city listings. "San Angeles, _Sparkle_ Magazine on Park Avenue." She waited for a moment while she was connected. "Trish Sackett, please."

It took Mira all of five seconds to convince Trish that Rose Ortiz was not the right person for the position that Trish had promised her. On top of that, Mira told Trish that she could give _Sparkle_ a whole new look, one that was guaranteed to sell millions of copies monthly in exchange for the position of editor-in-chief. Mira was smirking as she got off the phone with Trish.

Mack walked into Rose's office not a minute later. The desk chair was turned away from him, and he couldn't see who was sitting in it. "Hi, Rose. So how did the presentation go? Can we take a walk, maybe? I came to talk to you."

"Guess again, Beaver," Mira said coldly as she spun the chair around. Mack looked away, irritated. Why couldn't Mira just grow up? She seemed to sense his annoyance. "I meant to say 'Hi, Mack.' I'm sorry. Old habits, you know."

"Fine. Look, is Rose around? I really need to talk to her."

"Are you here about your pictures?" Mira asked in a falsely innocent tone.

"No, actually I'm not."

This was where all of Mira's lying skills came into play. "Well, I guess I should just tell you," she began in a serious tone. It was all she could do not to grin. Mira unfolded herself from Rose's desk chair and slowly began to walk towards him. "Rose decided to go in a slightly different direction, with a more established photographer. She's gonna use the guy who takes all of the official photos of her sweetie." Mira pointed to a picture of Dax posing in what he clearly thought was a cool way. "It's nothing personal. It's just a little bias, you know."

Mira was now just a few inches away from him. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you. I think your pictures are really cute, Mack."

He turned to leave. "Nice talking to you."

"Oh, Mack, while I've got you here, would you mind signing a general release? Maybe we could give your pictures to a catalogue or something." This was turning out to be much easier than Mira had expected it to be.

"Fine. Whatever."

0o0o0o0

On Friday evening, Rose tied a pink ribbon in her hair, the final touch for her outfit. She was going to meet Mack for dinner, or she hoped she was. She hadn't been able to get a hold of Mack all week, so she was clearly taking a risk by walking over to his apartment. She hoped he was feeling OK.

A block away from Mack's apartment, Rose passed a newsstand. Frowning, she pulled down the copies of _Sparkle_ and hid them behind the copies of _Poise._ She felt a little better as she continued on her way.

The gate buzzed as soon as Rose pressed the button, almost like he was waiting for her. But to Rose's surprise, Mack didn't answer the door. Instead, the petite woman found herself face to face with Mack's fiancée. She was wearing one of his shirts. "Hi," Rose said hesitantly.

"Hi. It's Rosalina, right?"

"Just Rose, actually. I was looking for Mack. Is he here? I have some news to tell him, and he hasn't been answering the phone." Rose thought it was safer not to mention that she'd thought she and Mack had had dinner plans. "It's his pictures. Everyone just loved them." Hopefully, corporate would love them, too. They just hadn't had a chance to meet with the president of _Poise_ yet due to scheduling errors.

"Oh, that's great. I'll make sure to tell him when he gets home. He's just out getting his tux."

"His tux?" Rose echoed.

"I know. Men. Everything is at the last possible minute." Ronny smiled, shaking her head. "I mean, we have last minute things to do all day tomorrow until we leave for his dad's and our wedding is Sunday morning. He left it as late as possible. But that's Mack."

"His dad's?" Rose repeated.

"We're getting married there. It's going to be the cutest backyard wedding since I don't know when. We're so happy."

"Congratulations," Rose managed to choke out.

"Thanks. I'll tell Mack you came by. Goodnight."

Before Rose could say anything, Ronny had shut the door.

0o0o0o0

After Rose left Mack's apartment, Richard called and told her that he had finally pegged the president of _Poise_ for a meeting. The only drawback was that it meant she had to go the office on Saturday. But Rose was too excited to care.

She got to her office on Saturday morning and ran through her speech a few times. Then Richard appeared in her office. Rose turned to him. "Ready?" she asked. He shook his head.

"There's no meeting, Rose. The photos aren't ours anymore. Mira got to Mack. She got him to sign a release and then gave the photos to _Sparkle._ She's their new editor-in-chief."

Rose could understand why Mira would stab her in the back, but not why Mack would. "Why?"

"I don't know. Go ask her. She's in her office, packing up."

Rose marched past her boss towards Mira's office. She had a score to settle, and she planned on doing it.


	11. Her Best Friend

**13 Going on 30**

Rose was fuming as she stomped down the hallway to Mira's office. Rose knew that Mira had to have said something terrible to Mack for him to sign away the pictures the way he had. She had to know what Mira had lied about. She couldn't let Mack get married in eighteen hours with him thinking whatever Mira had said was true.

"What did you do?" Rose demanded as she entered Mira's office.

Mira looked up from the box she'd been piling her things in. "Oh, which one do you want to be today, Rose? The pot or the kettle? Because if you don't mind, I'd like to be the kettle. Or the pot. It doesn't really matter, though. They're both _black_."

"What are you talking about, Mira?" Rose asked, confused as to what Mira meant. Mira was the bad guy here, not Rose.

Mira smirked and held up the _Sparkle_ envelope she'd found in Rose's desk drawer. "This is what I'm talking about. I know all about your little deal with Trish, Rose. If you helped them sell a million copies they'd give you editor-in-chief. That's a pretty good deal. I wish I had thought of it. So now I get to leave, and you can stay here with _Poise_. Maybe if you're lucky you losers will be able to salvage _something_…but you won't be lucky."

Rose took a closer look at the envelope. There was a piece of _Sparkle_ stationary inside. _Thanks for the idea, Rose. You'll be a great editor-in-chief at Sparkle. -- Trish Sackett._ "But I've never seen this before," Rose told Mira. Mira snorted as she dropped a stack of CDs into her box.

"Wipe that Bambi look off of your face, Rose. I found it in your desk drawer, and the envelope had already been opened. You can't fool me. It's a shame, really. Aren't you a certified genius? Shouldn't you know to hide your dirty little secrets a bit better?"

Rose clenched the paper so tightly that her fingernails left five little holes in it. She fought back tears. Over the last few weeks, Rose had really thought that she had made some changes to her life. She had tried to make things right. But all this time the worst mistake she had made had been sitting in a desk drawer, waiting to be found.

"What about Mack? What did you say to him?" Rose asked in a quiet voice. She felt sick to her stomach. If Mira had messed things up…if Mack hated her… "Just tell me."

Mira smirked again. "Oh, little Beaver…I think I told him that you had decided to go in a different direction." She pretended to look deep in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I might have told him something else, but I just can't remember."

The taller woman hoisted the box into her arms and walked out of her office. Rose sank to the floor, horrified. It was too much to hope that Mack hadn't believed Mira's outrageous lies. _Something_ had made Mack sign the release forms. _Something_ had made him believe Mira.

Rose wanted to cry. She had lost him now, forever. And they'd gotten to be so close again…Mack had forgiven her. But now Mira had ruined everything, and once Mack and Ronny were married, he'd be moving to Florida. Rose would probably never see him again.

She loved him.

If only she'd seen it when they were children. If only Rose had listened to her mother about Mack being her boyfriend. It made so much sense. How could she have been so blind?

And then the tears _did_ come, fast. Rose sat on the floor in Mira's office, brokenhearted. There was nothing she could do. Mira had crushed Rose's chances, and Mack had Ronny. He'd picked Ronny long before Rose had shown up in his life again. Rose had to accept that.

It was too hard.

She _had_ to see him. She _had_ to see him so that she could apologize. Mack could _not_ get married without knowing the truth. He _had_ to know he had Rose as an option.

There was no way Rose could get him alone here in the city. She would have to go back to the suburbs tomorrow morning before the wedding. She stood slowly, shaking. She would just have to wait it out.

0o0o0o0

The taxi system in San Angeles sent its cars out at eight o'clock in the morning. Rose spent a sleepless night staring at the ceiling. She tried to rehearse what she would say to Mack, but nothing that crossed her mind seemed to sound good.

Rose dressed carefully that morning. After what seemed like hours of rifling through her wardrobe, Rose decided on a red off the shoulder top and white jeans. She slipped a lightweight black coat on over her top, gathered up her purse and ran down to the lobby.

She was lucky and caught one of the first taxis of the morning. "I need to go out to the suburbs. I know it's far, but I'll pay you well." Rose settled in against the black leather of the seat, reminding herself to breathe.

The cab had nearly reached the suburbs of San Angeles when it got caught in traffic. It did not help to soothe Rose's nerves. Rose sat in the backseat, looking at her watch, and every so often she thought she felt someone's eyes watching her. She glanced up and found the cabbie watching her intently. "Rose? Rose Ortiz?"

"Yeah…" Rose said slowly.

The African-American man's eyes lit up. "Will Aston!"

Rose stared at him. He certainly looked different. She tried to smile. "Are you married?" Will asked. "If you're single, I definitely want a number…" He glanced back at her again. "I'm living at home. My wife and I just got divorced. This is what I do all day…drive people around. But you run that magazine, right? With Mira?"

"Mira was recently given another position at another magazine," Rose said stiffly. This was not the right time for questions. She looked at her watch again. She only had ten minutes before the wedding was due to start. Will started to talk again, but Rose was far too anxious to hear anything he said.

An old song came on the radio, one that Rose would know anywhere. "It's our song, Rose!" Will exclaimed, "What was his name? Rick Springer? Springy?"

"Springfield, Aston!" Rose said as she got out of the cab. She could walk to the old neighborhood from here. If she sat in the cab any longer she would be too late to talk to Mack. She threw some bills at Will and ran off, glad she had worn comfortable shoes.

Rose sprinted towards her childhood home. When she reached the front lawn of Mack's old house, Rose looked up. She could see Mack standing at the window in his old bedroom. Rose smiled briefly – she wasn't too late.

She snuck up the stairs, unnoticed by any of the guests. She heard Ronny giggling with her bridesmaids and made herself keep going towards Mack's room. Rose stopped outside of the door and took a deep breath.

The door creaked as she pushed it open. Mack turned to se who his visitor was, and when he saw Rose, he smiled. "Hi," she said softly.

It was so, so wrong to want to run to her and hold her and never let her go. But he was getting ready for his _wedding_, so he simply said, "Hey, Rose."

"Mack, whatever Mira said to you, you have to know it wasn't true. Please." Her eyes were begging him to understand.

Mack chuckled softly. "I stopped trusting Mira in the third grade when she broke my mother's camera. She doesn't matter."

Rose took a few steps closer to Mack. "I am not the awful person that I know I used to be. I don't know her. And I think that if you knew that, really knew that, you wouldn't be getting ready to marry someone right now…unless that someone was me."

Mack let out a big sigh. He covered his face with his hands for a moment before looking at her again. "Rose, I won't lie to you. Ever since you showed up at my apartment, I've felt things. Things that I thought I would never feel again. But I've also realized you can't just turn back time to how things used to be."

"Why?"

He reached out and took her hand, gently. "We moved on. We went down different paths for so long…I chose Ronny. I care about her. She cares about me." His heart was breaking as he continued to talk. "You don't always get the dream house, Rose, but you come real close."

Rose slowly started backing towards the door, looking at the walls, the floor…anywhere but his eyes. "I understand," she said. Her voice betrayed how miserable she felt.

"Rose, please don't cry," Mack whispered. If she cried then Mack knew there was no way he could keep from pulling her into his arms and telling her something that would only hurt both of them more.

"I'll be fine." She knew he was still watching her. "Mack, you can't be late to your own wedding," she said, trying to sound impatient. "Just go. I'm crying because I'm happy. I want you to be so happy."

He opened the closet door and took out the Rose Dream House. He stood in front of her, holding it out for her to take, and Rose saw that he looked like he was going to cry, too. "Oh, Mackie, can I have it?" she asked in a whisper.

"You're not going to throw it at me?"

"No." She tried to smile and took the dollhouse from her old friend. "I love you, Mack."

Rose moved to the door, stretching out a hand for the knob. "Rose, I've always loved you."

It was too much to take. She left the room, carrying the dream house with her. Mack's house was empty, saving her from explaining what she was doing there in the first place.

Rose crossed to her own house, sitting down on the porch. She let her tears fall. It was too late. Mack had chosen his path, and she had chosen hers. But if she had one do-over…one wish…

A light breeze blew remnants of wishing dust towards Rose, and she squeezed her eyes shut.


	12. Rose's Dream House

**13 Going on 30**

When Rose opened her eyes again, she found that they were covered with a piece of silky fabric, similar to the sleeping mask she'd found when she woke up to discover she was thirty. She reached up and pulled off Mira's scarf. Beaming, Rose took in her surroundings. She was in the basement closet, surrounded by board games and camping equipment. She was back!

Rose looked down at herself. She was wearing the pink tube top she'd put on for her thirteenth birthday party, and her chest was flat again. On the other side of the door, Rose heard an old – current – Madonna song. She could make everything right now. Mack wouldn't marry Ronny.

On the other side of the closet door, a thirteen year old Mack was being told that Rose was waiting for him in the storage room. Puzzled, the pudgy boy moved towards the door. Rose was waiting for him, just as Mira had said.

"Mack!" she cried happily as she threw herself into his arms for a big hug. This caught Mack very off guard and he toppled to the ground, taking Rose with him.

She looked into his eyes for a moment before giving him a very chaste kiss on the lips. He was bright red when she pulled away from him. "Wow, you sure know what you're doing," he said.

Rose laughed as she got off of him. "Come on, we're going to be late." Rose couldn't place is, but she had the strangest feeling something major was taking place right now. She pulled Mack to his feet.

"What are we going to be late for?" he asked as Rose dragged him up the stairs. Halfway up, the pair ran into Mira, who reached for Rose's throat and pulled the scarf away.

"Sorry, I forgot this," she simpered. Wait a minute…were Rose and Beaver holding hands? She snorted. This was too good. Wait until she told the girls about _this_. Mira's attention was changed from the rumors she was planning on starting to reality when Rose snatched the report from her hands and ripped it in half.

"Be the pot and the kettle all by yourself, biatch," Rose said coldly. "Come on, Mack," she added kindly. "I'll explain everything."

As they moved through Rose's home, the two slowly grew older. Rose had new memories of birthdays, holidays, vacations, romantic candlelit dinners…all with Mack. Her Mack, her sweet, loving Mack. When they reached the front door of the Ortiz house, the couple was wearing wedding attire and Rose was holding a bouquet of her namesakes in one hand. Mack opened the door, and their guests cheered.

At the end of the aisle their friends and family had formed, Mack looked into his wife's eyes for a long moment before finally kissing her.

When they broke apart for air, Mack reached into the inside pocket of his tux jacket and brought out a slim silver digital camera. "Mack," Rose said softly.

"Just one, Rosie. We have to document our wedding," he replied. He aimed the camera at he and his bride and snapped a photo of them sharing another kiss.

0o0o0o0

Three weeks later, Rose set a framed copy of that photo on the mantelpiece of she and Mack's new house. When she'd adjusted it to her liking, Rose set the next picture up, this one of her parents, followed by one of Mack's. When there were no pictures left, she smiled at her handiwork before wading through the sea of cardboard boxes to the front door.

She found her husband bringing another box out of the moving truck. He grinned at her approaching figure and added the box to the growing pile on the lawn before sitting down on the new couch that had just been delivered. Rose joined him, snuggling up to his side.

"Would you like a Razzle, Mrs. Hartford?" Mack asked as he fished a bag of candies out of his pocket. He poured a few into Rose's cupped hands, and she fed one to him. "Thank you, Mrs. Hartford."

Later, as Rose moved through the pink house she and Mack now owned, with her husband at her side, she knew this was what she had always wanted.


End file.
